Songtown - Vol. 14 (Since She Started To Ride)

Artist: Jonathan Richman
Song: Since She Started To Ride
Album: Jonathan Goes Country
Year: 1990
Download



Hello Song Lovers!

I'm sorry I haven't written about songs recently. As I had previously explained, this feature was starting to make me hate songs. I'm still fully recovered and loving songs again, but I'm going to give it a go just because you deserve it.

Today, I'm going to listen to this Jonathan Richman song over and over until I've decided that I've typed enough.

Do you remember that scene in Pee-Wee's Big Adventure where Pee-Wee has to rescue all of those animals from the burning pet store? First off, do pet stores really sell monkeys? Second off, if you're like me, you've never commiserated more with a movie character than when Pee-Wee continually runs past the snakeaquarium every time he goes to grab another pet. He momentarily stops, sneers and then runs past. But you can tell that he's resigned to his fate that he's going to have to eventually save them too. So after Pee-Wee and the monkey bring every other creature out to the sidewalk, Pee-Wee heads back into the store to face off with destiny. [As an aside, is destiny, by definition, a positive thing? or am I correct in assuming that there can be nightmareish destinies, too?] Pee-Wee emerges from the store with snakes flowing from both hands and does a perfect cartoon-like twirly faint to the ground. Later, a fireman wakes him up and calls him a hero or something.

This is similar to my experience with Jonathan Richman. Except replace the "worst nightmare" tone with a bed-time fairytale type scenario. I didn't know much about him in 1997 or 1998 or some other year. All I know was how awesome the front cover of "Surrender To Jonathan" was.



Every time that I went to Best Buy, I'd browse through every rack in the CD section, I'd flip past this album and give a little smirk. I knew that I'd inevitably need to buy this album, but for now, I had other purchases to make. And so we did our dance for a few months, until finally it had reached the top of my purchase queue. And what a rewarding purchase it was. This one is Top Ten album in my life. Most fans tend to like the Modern Lovers stuff the most, but I don't understand how this couldn't not be anyone's favorite. Every time I listen to it, I do a little fainty twirl and fall prostrate to the ground.

So, the song that I picked to muse about today doesn't even come from "Surrender" so why am I going on so much about it? I don't know. That's the Origins part of the story.

I sat on this album for a few years and didn't explore much else. I bought a few albums, but I never really listened to them. In 2000, I found Gram Parsons and that's when my love affair with country music (aside from Wilco's A.M.) really went into full bloom. So, I did the country thing and a few years later, I decided that I needed to finish my Jonathan collection and I was thrilled to find that he had an album called "Jonathan Goes Country." Could there have been a better idea? Not to me.

[As an aside. I don't know the proper usage of quotes, underlines or italics anymore.]

"Since She Started To Ride" epitomizes Jonathan for me. It seems that Jonathan's character has lost his love to a horse. She'd just much rather be out on the farm "grooming and graining. " God, this is poetry. I've emboldened some real choice lines:

She's got a brown suntan starting just above her collar
Her lower arms they're brown, but the rest is kinda pale
She'd buy Betadine if she only had a dollar
And she'd live out in the pasture if she only had a tail.

And no I don't see her much since she started with horses
No I don't see her much since she started to ride.

Well her jeans they get like a wet saddle blanket
And her boots are like you'd figure
And her car is full of hay
Horses, humans if she had to rank it
You'd bet on they that canter
And them that need fly spray

And you see I don't see her much since she started with horses
No I don't see her much since she started to ride

Candle and fender, barrel and mane
Don't see her much since she started to train
Cannon bone, knee bone, forearm and arm
I don't see her much when she heads for the barn
And she's so satisfied when she's riding and training
She must just love that smell of the barn I would say
She's so satisfied when she's grooming and graining
And she's tired in the evening and she's gone in the day

And no I don't see her much since she started with horses
No I don't see her much since she started to ride.

What is a betadine? I think that was in a Blue Angels thing.

Also of note is how he leads the players into the Solo section..."Go boys...tell 'em all about it!"

Now, I'm not saying that he was the first to use some words of encouragement to push his band into a solo, but when I first Jonathan do this, I knew that I would have to do the same in nearly every song I'd write from there on out. "Michael Junior Gittings on the guitar!" That sort of thing.

Hey, look. It was great talking with you.

Songtown - Vol. 13 (He'd Be A Diamond)

Artist: The Bevis Frond
Song: He'd Be A Diamond
Album: New River Head
Year: 1990
Download



So, there's something sad that I've realized recently. I've written about twelve of my favorite songs so far, but as I look back over them, I feel like I never want to hear any of them ever again. The same goes for all of the songs that the Egg Babies have ever covered. Whenever these songs pop up on the iPod, I immediately skip to the next track. This is sad, right? Look what I've done to myself.

Anyhow, here's to another one down the drain...

As is a recurring theme, I first heard "He'd Be A Diamond" because Teenage Fanclub recorded it as a b-side for their "I Don't Want Control Of You" single. With your assumption deemed correct that I think this song is the bomb and intercourse, I obviously had to track down the original.

Thus, I found the Bevis Frond. I can't say that I like the Bevis Frond very much. I've had their album New River Head (their "masterwork") for seven or eight years now, yet this is still the only song that has found its way onto my iPod. I've read that Mr. Bevis Frond, Nick Saloman, is considered Britain's answer to Robert Pollard. A prolific songwriter with a ton of output, albeit with most of it teetering on the wrong side of the self-indulgent line. With a lot more psychedlic guitar solos.

But it doesn't matter what else he's written, because "He'd Be A Diamond" is a song that he can hang his hat on for the rest of eternity. Its a song filled with an endless stream of metaphors that describe the idea of being in a relationship that's run its course. No matter how hard you try to let bygones be bygones, there are some things that you just can't keep in the past. ("When you turn your back, you still see what's behind you/When you start up fresh, you still think of days gone by"). At the focus of the song, here's this dude who's had too many chances. He treats his girl like crap, and uses her for beer, dope and her ironing prowess. Every time she cuts him loose, he wins her back by promising to be a diamond next time. Speaking of promises, I promise you that this will be the first and last time that you'll hear words like "when you blow your nose, it still gets blocked up and runs" and be totally moved by them.

This is really great, isn't it??!? And I still love it!

Songtown - Vol. 12 (The Glutton Of Sympathy)

Artist: Jellyfish
Song: The Glutton of Sympathy
Album: Spilt Milk
Year: 1993
Download



I remember getting really excited in 1993 when Taco Bell announced that they were sponsoring the first annual Battle of the Bands to be broadcast on some network station. When the night came around, I settled in front of the TV, with my Fruit By The Foot or mayonnaise sandwiches or whatever I was into at the time, and was thoroughly wowed that I was finally witnessing one of these battles. I had heard about these battles and I longed to be involved in one on day, but for now, I was happy to just be a tertiary part of the process.

To me, it seemed like this was a week long event or at least a few hours, but after my research, it appears that it was all kept with a 60 minute (live?) telecast. I think there were four bands total, with current Recher Theatre faves Too Skinnee J's going heads up against the Noise Boys. I remember liking the Noise Boys more, but I remember very little about them. I can guarantee that they weren't these guys. Well, Too Skinnee J's pulled it out in the end and I wasn't all that disappointed because I thought they were a lot of fun.

The show must have been a royally unpopular one, as this ended up being the first and last annual Battle. No one ever told me, so I continued to tune in year after year until the invent of the internet in hopes that it'd pop back on any second now. I might have even gone as far as to probe a Taco Bell employee as to the future of this world changing event. The irony of the whole thing is that Fox is now presenting their search for the Next Great American Band, and I could care less.

Well, back to the point. As a treat, they had established pop/rock group Jellyfish perform at the half-way point. I had heard of them, but had never explored them because I stereotyped them as being music for clowns, based on their clothing. Well, anyhow, they played. Their lead singer was their drummer. And he was standing up and playing the drums too! Unheard of. I was hooked. I told myself that they were going to be my favorite band from that point on. But instead, I resisted picking up either of their albums and it was only when I got the record store job did I finally invest in them.

I'm not sure how my 13 year old self would have felt about these albums. I would like to say that he would have loved them even more than I do currently, but that might be wishful thinking. Either way, I can't really imagine a way how Jellyfish would have vastly improved my life between the years of 1993 and 2005.

The two Jellyfish albums represent absolute perfect pop music production. The vocals are all pitch perfect. There's no flubs to be heard in any of the instrument takes. No signs that these guys aren't Jesus himself playing some powerpop tunes.

Of course (and oddly), the perfection can be a bit of a turn-off. There's a certain charm to the occasional screw-up, so the sheen could possibly drive you nuts. Matthew Sweet does this same thing, but he winds up pissing me off much more than Jellyfish. Sometimes I just want to scream when I listen to a lot of his stuff.

Striving for recording perfection isn't for everyone. First and foremost, you have to be capable of creating perfection. Matthew Sweet and a lot of other mid-nineties powerpoppers aren't actually capable of perfection, but they try and it turns out more frustrating then anything. To me, "Powerpop" is defined as "a failed attempt at perfection" so that's why I typically avoid that term like that plague. Jellyfish, however, totally rocked it. I don't know how they're holding up these days, but Brian Wilson probably went nuts because he was chasing perfection. So my second point is just that...be careful, guys!

Anyhow, here's my favorite track of theirs, "The Glutton of Sympathy." Perhaps the lead vocal might be a little too dramatic for you, but maybe not? That said, I challenge you to pin point even one note or beat that sounds like its out of place or out of time.

Songtown - Vol. 11 (Perfume)

Artist: Spin The Spin
Song: Perfume (demo)
Album: Mike's Demos
Year: 2000
Download


Spin The Spin was perhaps the most well-planned band that's ever existed in history. I had been recording my little tapes as Twentieth Century Styles. Mark and Mike's work in The Spontaneous Gyrations in high school was by far the largest musical influence in my life and I'm not sure that the 20thCS would have ever happened without them.

So, it made sense that the three of us would get together to work on a project that Mark had deemed "The Cream of the Pop." We called it Spin The Spin, inspired by the name of an arcade game that Mark, our friend Steve and maybe Mike had played at Towson Town Center. The object of the game was to simply spin the spin.

And so we started writing. The three of us occasionally got together and just jammed on three acoustics, recording every last second of it. Add that to the feverish song writing pace that we were all working at on our own, we ended up having a pool of over a hundred songs or song snippets to work from. We eventually got our buddy Gary to play drums, who ironically would usurp all three of us in songwriting prowess and pace.

We played five or six shows and partially recorded our debut album before Mark moved off to Brooklyn. And now I have stacks and stacks of these song bits saved on my hard drive. Our debut album would have been comprised of three or four songs from each of us. We had recorded the basic tracks for Mark's and my songs, but we never had a chance to start Mike's songs. He wound up recording and releasing "Wanderlust" and "Sing Me A Mountain" on his one and only solo album, but one track, "Perfume," never made its way out to the public. Unfortunately for all of you, this track was the cream of the Spin The Spin cannon. [I've decided to stop italicizing Spin The Spin.]

Fortunately for you, this demo of "Perfume" does exist. Its a short rendition of it. We wound up doing the chorus a few times, and maybe there was a solo or a third verse too.

It was around this time that I remember Mike complaining a lot about how the Goo Goo Dolls had began one of their hit songs with the word "And." He thought that was totally improper and stupid. And what? Who cares about the second part, when you never even told us the first part? I eventually explained it to him that the song was probably a continuation of their last song, as they sounded exactly alike.

Anyhow, the second line in this song ends with an "and," and I think its unbelievably creative. I don't know if he did to set it up as a juxtaposition to the Goo Goo way. As a "Fuck you, Goo Goo Dolls. This is how you do 'and.'" But it would make for amazing lore if he had.

I would rank this song up at the top of the Gittings-penned tunes with "Teacher's Pet," one that will show up on the next Water School album. The melody is really well-defined and clever. And the hooks! Its littered with them. "Fine fine fine....Mine mine mine." "Doo do-do-do doo, doo doo doo..."

This is the one aspect that always suffered in our Water School songs, but we lacked an iconic Sweet Child O' Mine guitar riff, or a Hey Jude "na na na" sing along. "Perfume" would have taken care of the latter, at least.

And try to tell me that you don't smile and snicker a bit at the end of the first verse when he sings "I got high just from standing next to you, sniffing the fumes," and then immediately clarifies them as being "the perfume fumes." I love it!

I have no clue what he's singing about in the second verse but I bet's it sexual. Something about a dentist, embroidery and a tiger.

I should now tell you that this song brings real joy to my heart because its the closest thing that I have to Gooseberry Soda. If I didn't know better, I would think that Mike might have produced the Gooseberry song. Really, its creepy how similar the two songs are. If only Mike would have sung about that black snake in the quarry.

Songtown - Vol. 10 (Eanie Meany)

Artist: Jim Noir
Song: Eanie Meany
Album: Tower Of Love
Year: 2006

Download




Alright! Let's get down to it! As we've previously discussed, back when I worked at "Traders," we got a lot of promo CDs in it. I usually caught all of the good stuff, but occasionally, I'd leave it up to my co-worker, TambourineMan, to find the ones that slipped through the cracks. Thus, one day he played one of the best CDs of 2006 on the stereo. It was so beautiful, that even after the 5th listen, I still didn't really realize any music was playing. It was just so naturally perfect that I heard it as just being more of a sound of life than anything. I eventually caught on and realized it was this Tower Of Love album by Jim Noir. TambourineMan got dibs on our only copy of the album, so he eventually took it home. But he was gracious enough to keep it around the office for a good six months, so this, a disc from the Nick Lowe boxset, Belle and Sebastian's The Life Pursuit and the Jayhawk's Smile became the official theme music for our office.

Even still, it somehow skipped out of my memory when I compiled my best of list for that year. What was I thinking? I eventually owned it in 2007.

It took me a while to figure out which song I wanted to highlight today since they're all a lot of fun, but I settled on this "Eanie Meany," because its the most repetitive, funny and relateable. Jesus, just tell me how to spell "relatable," someone!!!

If you don't give my football back, I'm gonna get my dad on you
I only kicked it over your fence and broke a silly gnome or two

Eanie meany, run away
Eanie meany run away

You love it, right? I've never read the liner notes but I assume by the nature of the production style, that its this Jim Noir guy playing and singing everything. It just seems appropriate. This is what my music will sound like again one day. Just really nice.

Okay, I have to run. That said, let this song speak for itself. Or better yet, let this music video do the talking:

Songtown - Vol. 9 (This Will Be Our Year)

Artist: The Zombies
Song: This Will Be Our Year
Album: Odessey and Oracle
Year: 1968
Download



I'm not going to lie and tell you that I don't think that "Auld Lang Syne" isn't a beautiful song. [A lot of negatives there. What exactly am I trying to say?] I don't entirely know what we're singing about. To me, it appears there's a lot of talk about forgetting and maybe dying or something. That said, its got a nice melody and any song where you and 30 of your closest friends and family huddle together in a chorus gets at least a couple points in my book.

That said, sometime in the near future, I'd like to at least give "This Will Be Our Year" a chance to usurp that one.

The warmth of your love's
Like the warmth from the sun
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

Don't let go of my hand
Now the darkness has gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

The warmth of your smile
Smile for me, little one
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

You don't have to worry
All your worried days are gone
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

You might be saying, "Dude. New Year's was two weeks ago. Why are you just getting around to writing about this song now? Why wasn't this the first song that you wrote about?" Well, that's a valid point and I don't have a real answer for you. So, instead I'll offer this:

Why should we wait until New Year's Eve to sing this one? If it were up to me, we'd be singing this one at the end of every night. There's no better song that paints a picture of hope for the future. Sure, last year sucked, yesterday sucked, whatever time period sucked...but now, we're putting the pieces together and this year is finally gonna be the one. Optimism!

The song is nice and short. The lyrics are simple enough so that if you don't know it, you can watch the words forming on your loved one's lips and figure out where its going. And how about, "Darling, I love you. You gave me faith to go on!"? The vocal performance here is pretty relaxed and calm aside from that line. And lo and behold as that line comes approaching, you won't be able to help yourself from belting it out. All great sing-a-long songs have that moment. The one moment in the song that you that you look forward to from the opening notes. You can just imagine how you and yours will be all smiling at each other as you all raise your voices and ham that part up.

Instrumentally, the Zombies aced this one. The drums and piano play perfect counterpoints to each other, as the guitar and bass subtly fill in the rest of the spectrum. That said, I feel like this would be terribly difficult to replicate so perfectly, so...again...all great sing-a-long songs don't require anything more than a bunch of jokers standing in a circle singing their little hearts out. And this one is perfect for that.

Alright. Maybe I'll have to type up another one of these later on. Because this one...[stage directions: the blogger yanks at his collar with his index finger.]

Songtown - Vol. 8 (Encyclopedi-ite)

Artist: Sammy
Song: Encyclopedi-ite
Album: Tales Of Great Neck Glory
Year: 1996
Download




I just realized something about this Sammy band this morning. But, first, let's start at the beginning.

In 1996 and the two years leading up to it, I was super-excited that I had the good fortune of living in Overlea, just up the street from my favorite CD store, Record and Tape Trader. Setting aside the facts that this location was to eventually close and I would eventually work for/grow disenchanted with the company and I would eventually not care for the CD format anymore...in 1996, I was in love with finding new music and there was now better place to do it.

On what seemed like every summer afternoon, I would walk to "Traders" and initiate some sort of transaction that would involve me selling back a cardboard box's worth of CDs to them and then proceeding to spend all the money that they just gave me on new music. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. I could hear their collective sighs when I walked through the door. As a buyer, they didn't mind me. I didn't ask a lot of questions. I kept to myself. I spent a lot of money. As a seller, the employees dreaded seeing me, as I was a sign that they'd be spending their next thirty minutes on the phone with the Towson store to figure out how much they should give for each disc. That said, the company, as a whole, probably loved me, because I took great care of my CDs and they could get away with giving me $2 for a CD that I paid $12 for last month, which then they'll turn and sell for $8 next week. The sad part was that it would more than likely be me re-buying the CD, after reflecting and realizing that my financial situation wasn't as dire as it seemed and that I couldn't possibly live without Dr. Feelgood.

So, I resent the implication that my 27 year old self might need to sit down with a financial advisor, but my 16 year old self? Not so much.

I haven't outgrown this process of buying and quickly selling my CDs, but at least now I have iTunes and the mp3 format, so I preserve digital copies of every album that I've owned over the last four years, at least. The archiver part of me kicks me for not having discovered mp3s in 1992, however.

One such CD is Sammy's Tales of Great Neck Glory. Bought it. Loved it. Sold it. Re-bought it for a penny off of Amazon. So not a terrible arc.

Each time I was at Traders, I would thumb through each and every rack to make sure that I hadn't missed something yesterday. One fateful day, as I flipped through the S placard, I found this CD with a couple mop-topped dudes on it, with a little sticker that [I thought] said "Featuring former members of GBV." I had recently started listening to Guided By Voices, as they were apparently the godfathers of indie rock. I didn't necessarily care for GBV that much, but it had taken stickers with a lot less intrigue to convince me to buy other albums. So, of course, I was going to buy this one.

I took it up and was surprised that it was a thoroughly enjoyable listen. I loved the first five or six songs, and then from there, it all becomes murky. The album as a whole is a little or a lot monotonous. There aren't really any bad songs, but if you've heard one, you know what the second, third and fourth ones are going to sound like.

And I feel bad for saying this, because every single mention of Sammy on the internet mentions it, but it would be a disservice if I didn't note that they're a poor man's Pavement. The music is a lot smoother and the lyrics, for the most part, don't ever come close to matching that abstract brilliance of Malkmus, but nonetheless...Pavement For Babies. That said, most of these reviews use this relation as Strike One, Strike Two and Strike Three against the band. I think that's going a little overboard. Granted, the reviews were written at a time when a lot of bands were trying to steal the Pavement sound, so the reviewers were probably just really fed up with it all. So, maybe they've returned to Tales of Great Neck Glory and can now listen to it as just an album of however many pretty good songs.

"Encyclopedi-ite" is one of the three or four standout tracks. The lyrics revolve around the narrator's obsession with some know-it-all smarty-pants. If the music and melody wasn't so peppy and fun, a typical listener would probably report this song to the authorities upon hearing it. You see, it sounds like Dude is friends with this Encyclopedi-ite, but everytime they hang out, "[she] always gave him the tour/he never gets to explore." So this leads the dude to break into the girl's room so that he can "absorb like a sponge/everything that [she's] done." Or maybe I'm reading too far into it? Maybe its less creepy? Maybe its just his brother or something and he's sick of living in his shadow? You decide!

Let me live your life, Encyclopedi-ite
Don't turn out the light

Yeah, he's a creep. No doubt.

And now to what I've just found out this morning. None of these guys have ever been in Guided By Voices. That stickers said ""Featuring former members of GVSB" instead. Girls vs. Boys. I hated that band and even my pitiful 16 year old suffer wouldn't have been suckered into buying this album if he had read that correctly.

Songtown - Vol. 7 (Kitty Can)

Artist: The Bee Gees
Song: Kitty Can
Album: Idea
Year: 1968
Download



As a kid, I would cringe whenever my mother would talk about or listen to the Brothers Gibb. They were just some lame ass high-singing disco band with ridiculously poofy hair. Tom Petty, Cat Stevens, Jackson Browne. I could get down with them, but I never understood her fascination with the Gibbs, or with Neil Diamond for that matter. So now, it only makes sense that I listen to the Bee Gees more than I listen to the Beatles.

First off, let's look at how these guys have aged phsyically. Not well, I'm afraid. I just typed up an exposé on how the bros have turned from goofy cute to extremely creepy over the last 40 years, but it was suffering royally, so I ix-nayed that route/route. But do a Google search and you'll see that Barry used to be a bonafide heartthrob in early years, even through the disco era. And that Robin...well, that dude is simply very interesting to look at.

Anyhow, the song. "Kitty Can" comes off of their third album, Idea, a period when they were just the poor man's Fab Three.

Man, do I still have to type about this song? I've now been listening to this song for an hour straight, and I still love it, but man...I'd love to hear something else. Alright, I'll trudge through.

I should note that this is not the "album version," but instead an exquisite alternate mix made available on a reissue from a couple years ago. I won't go into the differences, but there's a lot more going on in this version. Some horns. Some more violin. Some nonsensical whispering and vocaling.

So, the drums. Listen to these drums. When they first enter the verse, you think that something has gone terribly wrong and the drummer most definitely fucked up. But no, he's just doing something interesting! When I learn to play drums as a middle aged man, I'll play this one first.

The song tells the age-old story of a guy who's trying to decide between two girls. The first verse harps on Kitty. The narrator thinks that Kitty is the bees knees, except maybe that he lets his emotions get a little too wound up in hers:

When Kitty smiles, the world stands still
I see a thousand golden daffodils
But when she cries, the world just dies
I see a million tears in Kitty's eyes

There's nothing better than when Kitty is happy, but when she's not, oh God, it just hurts so much. And then there's the second verse which is all about Eve. Eve is a nightmare.

Now Eve is bad and treats me cruel
She loves to see me looking like a fool
I find a way with words I say
To be in love in such a lonely way

She's exactly the type of person you want to keep away from. There's no redeeming qualities here. The choruses further drive home the idea that Eve shouldn't even be spoken about in the same song as Kitty. "Eve never pleases me and Kitty can." Which makes the last verse particularly complexing:

Now they are two and I am one
I cannot fall in love with everyone
So I must choose between the two
Made up my mind, now I am choosing you

How could you even be confused? Eve is the devil. She's an awful human being. A trainwreck. Kitty offers everything to you! Sure, she gets sad sometimes and since you're so in love with her, you can't help but magnify the situation, but come on! Get over it, Barry!

And look at that last line of the third verse. " Made up my mind, now I am choosing you." Are you singing to "you" simply because it rhymes with "two" or is there some deeper meaning here? You couldn't possibly be thinking about choosing Beevesabub, could you? I know. You won't be the first and you won't be the last to settle down with someone who does nothing but berates you. But that typically comes from desperation. Why would you be so desperate? Are you already married to Eve? What's wrong with Kitty? Is she dying? Is she married? Are you two related?

Or could the "you" be a third? Is there someone else in the picture?

I'm not entirely sure when I stopped talking to the readers and started yelling at Barry Gibb.

Songtown - Vol. 6 (Master Jack)

Artist: Four Jacks & A Jill
Song: Master Jack
Album: Master Jack
Year: 1968



Boy oh boy. I love this song. This one appeared to me about a year ago, when I bought Hard To Find 45s on CD, Volume 6: More 60s Classics. I don't need to explain anything about this CD, because the title says it all. I bought this collection solely to get the original version of "Witchi Tai To," which we've already talked about. As with all of the world's greatest gifts, they come attached to other stuff even better. Yeah yeah yeah. Anyhow, this collection had some classics that I already know like "Walk Away Renee," "Lightning Strikes" and "(Just Like) Romeo and Juliet." But then there are the ones that WQSR never bothered to archive. Like "Master Jack."

This one seems like the type of song that the White Stripes would have rough and rolled their way through as a b-side at some point, but fortunately, I don't think they've gotten around to it, yet. So for now, it can just be yours and mine.

Four Jacks and a Jill is the name of the band. Internet research has told me that the band was formed in 1962 as The Nevadas. Back then, it was just a couple of Jacks not actually named Jacks. They later changed their name to The Zombies, not to be confused with the American Zombies. Shortly thereafter, Glenys Lynne Mynott came along and they wisely changed their name to the Four Jacks and A Jill. I say "wisely" simply because I'm in love with this band name. And I'm even more in love with the band name PLUS the fact that "Master Jack" is the only song that I'll likely ever hear by them. It just seems perfect.

You'll find that the less I know about a band, the more I'll try to create my ideal false reality regarding them. If you can, strike the last paragraph from the record.

In 1966, big game hunter Jack Richmond decided to try his hand at music production. He invited four orphaned teenage boys named Jack (Bilff, Leckerson, Tonlinky, Mookus) and a girl named Jill Poaklyn up to his estate to "help out." Well, it was all fun and game [sic] for all of a weekend before Master Jack starting pushing them to sing him a bunch of songs that he had written from their perspective. All in return for the food and shelter that he provided. And so went the next seven years. The young ones resented Master Jack, but with time, they grew to secretly admire him. Even if his unrequited love for Jill was a bit creepy.

Finally, when they reached their twenties, Master Jack let them out into the world. As their final gift to the Master, they performed this song that they had written in his honor. You can sense the tension, but in the end, the good outweighed the bad, and they had to thank him. And you know what? That Jill might just be a little in love with Master Jack.

Epilogue: Their next single was to be called "Mr. Nico" and that's not even part of my false reality. I have to track down this song.

Songtown - Vol. 5 (Did I Say)

Artist: Teenage Fanclub
Song: Did I Say
Album: Four Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Six Seconds: A Shortcut To Teenage Fanclub
Download



In an unprecedented move, this week, I'll be attempting to only reminisce about three-syllabled songs that end with an -ay sound. If I can successfully navigate to this goal, I'll buy everyone a meal at Chile's!

So, you had to figure it was only a matter of time before I started breaking out the Teenage Fanclub. I fear that I use to talk about this band way too much, so I've attempted to distance myself from them over the last few years. But rest assured, they're still probably my favorite of the still-going variety.

In 2003, the Fannies released a career retrospective. Retrospectives are the wave of the future as fewer and fewer bands are writing great hits. Although this release boasted a few remixed and remastered tracks, in addition to a Pink Floyd-esque sleeve, the real draw were the three new tracks. One from each of the chief songwriters. Raymond McGinley continued to improve his songwriting with "The World'll Be OK." Gerry Love continued to coast on cruise control with "Empty Space." But Norman Blake took it to the next level with "Did I Say."

I remember taking some sort of Beatles appreciation class at CCBC-Essex where the topic turned to love songs within one of the first few sessions. It was brought to my attention that it took the Beatles something like five albums before they wrote a song that wasn't about love. On a grander scale, this is obviously true in terms of pop music in general. 99 out 100 songs are going to be about love. But it wasn't until that class, that I fully comprehended this reality. It also made me feel a little better about my own songwriting. I feared that I was becoming a bit too one-note, and probably had, but I could now

That's why it was weird when Teenage Fanclub released 2005's Man-Made and Norman didn't have one song about love on there. Later, I read an interview with him where he said that he thought he had written enough love songs (read: nearly every single song before this album). So, as of this moment, this means that "Did I Say" is the last love song that he'll ever write. I'm sure he's already returned to the topic, but, if not...

This is the ideal last love song. Its a simple reflection upon the blossoming of his marriage...or something. "Hey, did I say that I smiled when I first heard your name? Fell in love and now I still feel the same way." How semi-precious is that?

The production is just gorgeous on this one. The harmony never leaves the lead vocal's side. The piano and string sounds are ones that I'd never be able to reproduce. Those rolling snare fills all over the place. This makes me feel like riding a horse.

And what time signature is this in? I once spent a whole afternoon driving around listening to this on repeat, attempting to "teetee ta ta" my way through it. Once a song isn't 3/4 or 4/4 anymore, I lose track almost immediately. I know that I write songs and I know that I once studied math, but, really, no clue. Please, someone make me feel like an idiot.

Songtown - Vol. 4 (Once A Day)

Artist - The Triffids
Song - Once A Day
Album - In The Pines
Download



So, I spent two years working at a record store. During my tenure, I took home at least a thousand promotional copies of new CD releases. At first, it was mainly stuff that I had been anticipating or had least been told to look into. It wasn't long until I started taking anything home that featured letters from any of my favorite alphabets. I'd drop it into iTunes immediately and figured the good stuff would find its way to the top eventually.

Then came the day that they finally issued reissues of two of the The Triffids albums. Except that I had no clue who The Triffids were and frankly, still don't. I've never listened to the two albums in their entirety and I've come to enjoy a couple of the songs that have popped up on the iPod while in Shuffle mode.

I think was a sticker on one of the cases that said they were an influential band from 1980s New Zealand or something. That's the extent of what I know about them. And at this point, a year later, I'd like to keep it that way. After I finally heard "Once A Day," I convinced myself that this was their only song.

The song seems like its obviously a cover song, but I've never heard the original. Although I love the song, I've decided to not research its origins. I think its a much more romantic idea just to imagine that it was a bunch of kids (I also like to pretend that they were and still are in seventh grade) from New Zealand that had written it. I dream that one of their dads worked as a janitor at the local watering hole and that he somehow convinced the owner to allow his boy's band to play a Sunday night gig for the regulars. The owner's one stipulation was that his daughter Pagoda had to sit in on the violin. [And she nailed it!]

With my previous false reality established that this was their first and only song, my story continues that this song comprised the entire set. [The story is foggy from there, but its possible that they might have played this one multiple times.] The crowd gives them some ironic applause, hoots and hollers ("Look at these kids trying to sing about heartache!") as the song starts up. But upon the arrival of the first chorus when the rest of the band starts belting out the response to the janitor son's call, you can really start feeling the irony turn into pure adoration, and by the final chorus, you'll hear the entire pub screaming that response.

My favorite part is in the third verse (nearly a carbon copy of verse two) when Janiboy switches out "I'm so glad I'm not like a friend I knew one time" with "I'm so glad I'm not like this wino I knew one time." What does a 13 year old know about winos??!? It doesn't matter. This boy's got himself a broken heart.

Pagoda!

Songtown - Vol. 3 (Rest Of My Life)

Artist - Sloan
Song - Rest Of My Life
Album - Action Pact
Download



My first Sloan album was Navy Blues, and since that purchase, my life has been a better place. I quickly went back into their catalog and picked everything up, becoming a so-called fanatic. As with all of the great bands that employ three or four great songwriters, it takes me forever to figure out who is who. Not because they don't all have very distinct voices, but for some reason I go after the melodies and song structures first and then once I return to the vocalists, I'm thoroughly miffed. I remember struggling as a young teen to tell the difference between Lennon and McCartney, and especially Lennon and Harrison. Now, it all seems so obvious, but back then, I really had to do some research.

And so the story goes for Sloan. What did Chris Murphy sound like? Patrick Pentland? Jay Ferguson? It wasn't until I saw my first Sloan concert, that I finally began to figure it out. And you're telling me that Andrew Scott, the drummer, even sings a few songs? This is getting too out of hand.

Well, I worked it out. I'm still unsure as to how to describe Andrew's voice. Patrick is the token acquired taste. Jay is the one with the high range. And Chris, as it goes with Chrises, is the one that sings all of the really clever stuff.

Which brings us to Rest Of My Life. This Chris Murphy has a way of writing songs about anything as if he was the first ever to write about it. Granted, in a lot of cases (which I'm sure will be the topic of future blogs), he is actually the first to write about it, or at least the first in a long, long time.

So, here's this song. This isn't the cleverest of his songs, I know, so I shouldn't have promised "clever." There are plenty of songs written by twenty/thirty-somethings wondering whether they're finally gonna grow up and settle down or if they're destined to be bip-bopping well into the rest of their life. But this one is so good, that I can't think of any other songs about it. So, for all intensive purposes, this is the only one. And why shouldn't it be?

One thing I know about the rest of my life,
I know that I'll be living it in Canada

This other Chris' references to his home country and provinces rivals only my propensity to name check Baltimore in at least every third song. So obviously, I'm going to be a sucker for lyrics like that.

But that's only part of a verse. The verse is solid. It's not mind-blowing, but it clues you into the fact that something special is about to happen. And that something's name is the CHORUS.

There are two verses and and an early bridge that eventually warps itself into the middle of future choruses. But really, this song is just the chorus over and over.

Am I gonna settle down?
Am I gonna be
Someone who has to take the rest of my life to settle down?
Then I guess you caught me lying to myself

So, there's a common theme developing in this Songtown feature, which I'll try to be conscience to avoid returning to everyday, but...does this song need any more lyrics? No f'n way, man. The lyrics are perfect and the fact that each and every chorus is slightly different is totally awesome. I'm sure the three other band members were cursing him for writing the least straight-forward verse/chorus/verse song of all time, but whatever, man!

I'm not actually typing this for someone called "man."

If there was a "man," it would be this guy who's like a hybrid of Gary B and Mark O'D (if they learned how to sap the energy from a song):



And since I don't want to type anymore, here's Sloan's video for the song, which is a real treat, especially after that last one. In fact, it'd be a real injustice if you didn't click the play button.

Songtown - Introduction and #1 (The French Inhaler)

Hi again. So my plan for this year was that I would countdown my 260something favorite songs of all time. Once a weekday, I'd riff on one particular song and maybe why its made my life better.

I've adjusted this plan a tiny bit since its inception. First off, there's no way that I could put these songs into an sort of definitive order, so it wouldn't be a countdown. Secondly, I'm not going to force myself to write one everyday. So, there won't necessarily be 260some of them. And I won't necessarily stop on December 31st. It might end in February or it might continue forever, as long as I keep liking songs. And finally, some days, I'll riff on more than one song. Perhaps an entire album or a trilogy of songs that I feel go hand in hand with each other. "Hand in hand," "hand and hand," or both??

Without further ado, I decided that the first song obviously had to be the one that shares its name with this blog...

Artist: Warren Zevon
Title: The French Inhaler
Album: Warren Zevon
Download



My fascination with Warren Zevon began in 2002. I had known "Werewolves of London" and I had inherited my uncle's Excitable Boy LP, but had never listened to it. In addition, he was always the guy that would fill in for Paul Schaffer on The Late Show With David Letterman whenever Paul would take a vacation. He seemed like a real character and he'd say a lot of weird stuff that only he and Dave seemed to find the humor in. He generally seemed like my kind of guy.

Still, I didn't explore anymore of his music until Fall 2002, when I read that Zevon had been diagnosed with mesothelioma and that he had six months left to live. In November, Letterman invited him onto the Late Show as the guest. The only guest. Letterman spent the monologue talking about how good of a friend Zevon had been and how he was one of the greatest songwriters of all time. Then Zevon came out for one of the saddest interviews I've ever watched and also played three or four songs. It was awesome. The next day, I bought his greatest hits collection and from that point on, he was my Bob Dylan.

Warren Zevon seemed like someone that my mother should have introduced me to years earlier. He ran around with the Eagles and Jackson Browne, two of her favorites, and at his best, wrote songs every bit as good as Browne, Frey and Henley. That said, she missed the Zevon train for some reason or another, which forced me to find him on my own.

I'm not saying that he doesn't have plenty of rough patches in his catalog, but when he's on, he's on fire. That said, his voice would probably be placed in the Acquired Taste category, so I've held back in terms of promoting him to my friends, for the most part. Until now! Plus, most would describe my tastes as having gone off the deep end in the past few years, so they'd most certainly scoff at me with Boy Who Cried Dylan incredulation, anyhow.

"The French Inhaler" didn't pop out at me immediately when I first heard that collection. "Poor Poor Pitiful Me," "Excitable Boy," and "A Certain Girl" took me by the hand immediately, so TFI had to wait its turn before it truly made its impact.

I don't have a particular talent for breaking down songs enough to tell you specifically what they're about, but this one sounds pretty simple. The age old tale of one too many nights at that old Hollywood bar with all of the other horny, down-and-out, out-of-work actors and musicians. Zevon is the master of turning his narrators into the saddest of sacks and paints Hollywood as the most depressing town in all of the world. Yet, it makes me want to move there.

When the lights came up at two, I caught a glimpse of you
And your face looked like something Death brought with him in his suitcase
Your pretty face looked so wasted
Another pretty face devasted

Acquired taste or not, when the Eagles harmonize that bit behind him, there are zero alternatives to those shivers.

I've always been fascinated with pop songs that have no discernible verse/chorus pattern, yet each part is so fantastic that it sounds like you're listening to a four minute refrain. He only repeats two lines. He returns to the opening line once, "How you gonna make your way in the world, woman, when you weren't cut out for working?" And then for last line, "So Long, Norman," he sings it twice because it makes the most sense musically, plus he must have known that I love that sort of thing. Its only just now that I've figured out who Norman is.

I've become pretty awful at lyric retention in recent times, so it was to my surprise when I picked up my guitar last night and played this one all the way through, having never attempted it previously. Sure, nothing repeats itself, but it all makes sense. Each part and each lyric logically leads into the next.

Anyhow, listen to this thing and maybe come back tomorrow!