Stuff My Ipod Throws Together

"And I don't want to die...

But sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all...."

Queen; "Bohemian Rhapsody"

"And He gave us life, in His perfect will;

And by His good grace, I will praise Him still."

Fernando Ortega; "I Will Praise Him Still."

I remember once, growing up, my friend Steve opined that while my musical choices were not particularly out there, they did combine elements he was always startled to see together. I think this comment was made at a record store where I had just bought cassette tapes of the Pretenders Learning to Craawl and Amy Grant's The Collection.

Granted, I don't think Steve knew too many people besides me who listened to any CCM, so I guess that combined with anything seemed like a strange marriage (or being "unequally yoked" as most CCM listeners would probably say).

Today I don't listen to cassettes any more, but my Ipod shuffle can make such juxtapositions all the more frequent by throwing together songs from the recesses of my music library that, in the past, would never have been played one after the other.

Case in point--earlier this week it spit out Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" and Fernando Oretga's "I Will Praise Him Still" and I've been thinking about how wide is the gulf not just between the two artists and their genres but in the psychological and spiritual state embedded in the songs.

I don't know too many postmodern people who fret about hell when they think of the afterlife. With skeptical agnosticism or downright atheism, the new fear is that of nothingness, non-existence. If Christ was not risen from the dead, St. Paul wrote, then we are deceived and the most pitiable of men. Because, absent a life after this life, consciousness, life, is really a curse rather than a blessing, an awareness of one's eventual extinction. Better to have never been born than to be born only to a life of constant psychological torment. Yet, again, absent a life after this, life is the only imperative. One cannot choose to hasten the move into nothingness, can't want to die. Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" for all its operatic kitchy-ness, is a painful song (to me, anyway).

In contrast, Ortega's hymn of praise is about as far at the other end of the spectrum as could be. Because life, all life, is a gift of God, it is the subject of praise--even if our current circumstances are painful, confusing, or seen and understood imperfectly. Because His will is perfect, one can trust that the conditions one must endure to receive the greater (and greatest) gifts are necessary ones, and that what seems unnecessary or what we wish we could have not had, will actually be the thing that leads to the greatest praise because we could not have had true life (life eternal, not merely temporary consciousness) any other way.

I'm grateful for both songs...for artists who document the questions and doubts and fears as well as those who remind us that there are answers for the questions, encouragement to face the fears, and good news, gospel, to speak to the doubts that permeate the very air we breathe in the culture in which we life.

"H" is for "Happy"

I had a philosophy professor in college who claimed Plato called music "magic" because it can alter one's mood with no reference to prior experience. You are walking down the street and hear a song you've never heard before and all of a sudden you feel good. What is that, but magic?

My alphabetical sojourn through my Ipod has been stalled lately, but I'm up to the letter "H" and in honor of Plato, I say "H" is for "happy."

There are 90 songs beginning with the letter "h" in my Itunes, list. What follows are the songs from my list that tend to make me happy when I hear them--songs that put me in a good mood or that I enjoy hearing when I am in a good mood:

5) "Heartbreaker" by Dionne Warwick.
Okay, the bizarre thing about music is that sad songs often make you happy and happy songs often are just depressing (often, because they are insipid). It doesn't hurt that this song came out right around the time I was a junior or senior in high school, so it perfectly captures the overwrought emotional romanticism that is young adulthood. There is, perhaps, some nostalgia driving the engine--ah, to be young and to feel each nick and cut as an epic tragedy--but there is something self comforting in the song, too: "Get to the morning and you never call / Love should be everything or not at all." Of course, its always happier nostalgia because, in retrospect, one knows that the greater love was yet to come.

4) "Have a Heart" by Bonnie Raitt
Like Warwick, Raitt is able to sing about heartbreak and make it sound down right enjoyable. Still, while Warwick's song is overwrought, there is a fiestiness in Raitt's lyrics and voice that I just love. Lot of pluck. Glad I've never had to have that sort of spunk in love, but I wish I could have it in all areas of my life:

Hey!
Shut up.
Dont lie to me.
Hey!
Mister, how do you do.
Oh pardon me I thought I knew you.

I mean, that's perfect.

3) "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira

I discovered this song after reading an interview with some athlete on SI.com where they asked him, "What's the most embarassing song you have on your Ipod." When he said he had the music video for this song I had to look it up. "I never really knew that she could dance like this / She makes a man want to speak Spanish..." Okay, I was gonna say that's positively Donne-worthy, but I'll settle for Byronesque (he who rhymed "intellectual" with "hen-pecked-you-all." Besides, goofy is fun, isn't it?

2) "Heart and Soul" by T'Pau
Actually the lyrics of this song are pretty damned depressing. Good thing one can't hardly decipher them. Love the music, though.

1) "Hymn to Her" by the Pretenders
Doesn't hurt that I discovered this song when I was falling in love for the first time. Never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Honorable mentions: "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen, "Holding Out for a Her" by Bonnie Tyler, "Heaven is a Place on Earth" by Belinda Carlisle; "Human Wheels" by John Cougar Mellencamp; "Head Over Heels" by Tears for Fears.

"G" is for Great

One of the stereotypes of critics is that repeated or more frequent connoisseurship makes them more jaded, harsher. I noted once that in the first five years I wrote movie reviews, I used the word "masterpiece" exactly once.

But I'm not a music critic, nor do I listen to music as often as some of my friends. So, by the stereotypical logic, I ought to be a bit less critical in my judgments--willing to give a nod to songs of a quality that I might poke holes in were they films.

The flip side of such an argument, though, is that it seems in music, even more than film, people want to get there first, be the discoverer, lead the backlash against that which is popular.

In my alphabetical trek through my I-tunes, then, I decided to take the 50 songs beginning with the letter "G" and apply to them one, (it turns out not quite so) simple judgment: which, if any, would I unreservedly call "great"?

A quick scan gave me one definite "yes" and an additional two "probably"s, as well as a hand full of "maybe"s.

A more considered response, then, yielded the following results, in order not necessarily of my liking them, but in the strength of my belief that they are great songs:

1) "Gimme Shelter" -- The Rolling Stones
Here's the thing, I'm not now nor have I ever been anything more than a lukewarm Stones fan. By any reasonable standard that I can think of, however, "Gimme Shelter" qualifies as great. Longevity, popularity, acclaim, replayability (i.e. standing up to repeated listenings without making you sick of it). There may be some who imitate Jack Black and try to lead a backlash against it for its association with movie soundtracks, but really, so what? That it fits so well in a movie soundtrack is in part due to its iconic quality, its capability of expressing a mood and evoking a time. The lyrics, while not complex, are meaningful, and I do like the shift from "war" to "love" in the final chorus.

2) "Girlfriend is Better" (Live) -- The Talking Heads
Okay, as far as lyrics go, I have no idea what this song means--and I have tried to decipher it many times. I keep thinking of a line from Claude Chabrol describing Chaplin's Monsieur Verdoux: "It's hard to put into words, but extremely easy to feel." The gamut of emotions that the song evokes in me--from excitement ("its always showtime, here at the edge of the stage"), to constraint ("down in the basement, we hear the sound of machines"), to hope ("nothing is lost, everything's free / I don't care how impossible it seems")--is greater than just about any that I can think of. I usually feel better after listening to the song, and the energy with which the band has in the live performance is positively infectious.

3) "God Give Me Strength" -- Elvis Costello
From The Grace of My Heart soundtrack, this song combines some beautiful poetry that is made more complex through vocal performance rather than merely just disseminated by it. The transition from "I want him to hurt" to "I want him..." perfectly encapsulates the mix of hurt and desire that is true of the character who sings the song in the film but is also universal. There is some weirdness created by the gender pronouns of the lyrics (a female sings it in the film), so make of it what you will.

4) "Go Insane" -- Lindsay Buckingham
"Two kinds of trouble in this world: Living. Dying." The main reason I'm on the fence with this one is because it always feels a little short to me.

So, that's four out of fifty, or just under ten percent. The following songs get honorable mention...meaning I had to consider whether I would call them great, even if I couldn't quite give the nod:

"Greatest Discovery" (Live) -- Elton John. Really builds to a transcended final verse, but I wonder how much is created by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and how much by the song. On odd numbered days, I'd probably put this song in the "great" category. I wrote this on an even numbered day.
"Goodbye Stranger" -- Supertramp. You know, I think Supertramp is a bit underrated. They are like the perpetual B+ student or 10-6 football team. A lot of "good" but missing some element that separates the elite.
"Grease" -- Frankie Valli. A bit short. But man, it's fun.
"Grace by Which I Stand" -- Keith Green. I think there is some CCM (Contemporary Christian Music) that I think is great, and maybe even a few songs by Green that I would put in that category. This one ultimately feels more like a patter sermon than a song.
"Greenback Dollar" -- The Kingston Trio. Folk, like CCM, is a category unto itself, and I understand some won't like any of it. So I try to compare it to others of its category rather than simply measure crossover appeal. Not quite "Tom Dooley," though, is it? Just a tiny bit too much repetition in the chorus for me to put it in the "great" column.

"F" is for Frequency

What's the frequency, Kenneth?

That seemed to be the question worth asking as I perused the 56 songs beginning with the letter "F" in my Itunes library.

The playcount feature on the right column is an odd thing--I don't remember listening to these songs proportionately more than any others (I tend to only really listen to stuff on shuffle play), but here's what the counter says are the five most frequent songs that came up when the shuffling stop:

1) "Fast Car" -- Tracy Chapman. Weird story about this song. I always assumed it was a guy. I had heard it on the radio but never knew who sang it. I had heard of Tracy Chapman but never listened to any of her music. Then I downloaded "Change" after hearing it on a commercial for HBO DVDs and searched for other songs by the same artist.

2) "Find Us Faithful" -- Steve Green. Honestly, I don't remember listening to this song ten times in the last decade, but the counter says...Must have come up when I pulled the earbuds to pay my bills. Fairly well made if conventional CCM (Contemporary Christian Music) that I've always liked since a guy sang it at my church when I was in college. (Though I confess I liked the cover better he did better.)

3) "For Your Eyes Only" -- Sheena Easton. Personally, I think this is far and away the best Bond theme song. (No offense to Carly Simon.)

4) "Further to Fly" -- Paul Simon. You know, I remember playing Graceland during a Spades game in Marye House and Cindy (who was just a friend at the time) asking me who it was. That was the first (and last, really) time anyone who was at all cool artistically ever complimented me on my taste in music. I thought Rhythm of the Saints was a great follow up, but I haven't heard much from Simon after that, have I?

5) "First We Take Manhattan" -- Leonard Cohen. I actually have no idea what this song means. But I kind of like the lyrics: "They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom /For trying to change the system from within."

"E" is for Eclectic

Okay, so I haven't been working through the Ipod recently. I think my trek through the alphabet got stuck on "D." Hard to find new ways of sorting the list, and I figured anyone who sees an ample amount of The Police, The Pretenders, or Billy Joel in letters "A" through "D" will no not be surprised to find "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic," "Every Mother's Son," or "The Entertainer" on my Ipod's list of "E" songs.

I have 46 songs beginning with the letter "E" in my Itunes library. For this letter, I decided to focus on the eclectic--songs from artists of whom I have less than one entire album. This generally means that there was something about that particular song that caught my attention even if I didn't normally listen to the artist. Here are the "E" songs that qualify:

"Ebudae" by Enya. This is from the Toys Soundtrack. I sort of liked a few other songs on that album, but once I had it, the Enya song grew on me. I think we got one of her albums once, but it all sounded the same to me (sort of like Liz Phair, right Sherry?) so I didn't upload it to the Ipod.

"Edge of Seventeen" by Stevie Nicks. Well, I do have a Fleetwood Mac album, so I wonder if this one qualifies. Strictly a nostalgia piece. There's no music quite like the music that was popular when you were in high school.

"Eli's Coming" by Three Dog Night. Blame it on Sports Night, if you must.

"Even if My Heart Would Break" by Aaron Neville and Kenny G. I cannot tell you what this song sounds like. It was apparently on the soundtrack for The Bodyguard that I uploaded to get some Whitney Houston songs. Since I just made a folder for "E" songs to put in shuffle play, perhaps I will actually listen to it this month.

"Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears for Fears. They aren't quite one hit wonders (I do still have "Shout" on Itunes as well). Great theme song for Dennis Miller's show and used quite effectively in Real Genius.

"Eyes on the Prize" by the Emmaus Group Singers. From the Green Card soundtrack. See, now this is what I love about my Ipod. I never much listened to that song because there were like two or three good cuts on that CD. Now I can take those two or three and put them in rotation.

Other "E" notes:

--I have four different artists (Dixie Chicks, Leonard Cohen, Rufus Wainwright, Dar Williams) that have songs beginning with the words "Everybody Knows" (yeah, the one is a cover, but, still, that's weird).

--Since I have an entire album of The Nylon's their version of "Eli's Coming" doesn't count.

--My (current) five favorite "E" songs (in no particular order):
"Easy Silence" -- The Dixie Chicks. Just a beautiful song with beautiful sentiments.
"Eat for Two" -- 10,000 Maniacs. Not sure what to make of the lyrics, but I love the haunting tone of Natalie Merchant's voice. (It is Natalie Merchant, right?)
"Everybody Knows" -- Leonard Cohen. Call me perverse, but I like Cohen's voice. What a consummate lyricist.
"Everybody Want to Rule the World" -- Tears for Fears. I make no claims for it musically, but it I can listen to it a lot and not get tired of it, which is something.
"Every Day" -- Don MacLean. Very easy to listen to.

Juror's special prize: "Embassy Lament" from the Soundtrack to Chess: "Oh my dear, how boring/He's defecting/Just like all the others/He's expecting..."

Nick Reynolds

I was saddened to read today that Nick Reynolds, one of the co-founders of The Kingston Trio, passed away this week.

I spent countless hours growing up listening to the group, playing my parents' version of Live from the Hungry I over and over.

Their cover of Terry Jacks's "Seasons in the Sun" always puts a not in my throat, and I learned the months of the year from listening to their Christmas album. ("What month was my Jesus born in? Last month of the year...") I used to love how that album had non-traditional Christmas carols from around the world.

The Trio's best known hit was, of course, "Tom Dooley," an elegiac little narrative that probably paved my way to becoming a Johnny Cash fan in the way that it left unexplained the darker impulses of human nature and saw the true conflict being the conflict within, with ourselves.

There was even something cathartic about the "damn" in "Greenback Dollar."

I don't suppose Nick Reynolds's passing will get the attention of, say, Paul Newman's. I make no claim to the notion that The Kingston Trio revolutionized music or changed the industry. But they didn't brighten my life with their music, and that's not a bad legacy.

Postscript: Here's a YouTube of Reynolds and company singing "MTA" (kudos to Beth Rambo for the link):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VMSGrY-IlU

Shouldn't My Ipod Just Implode When this Happens?

So I was driving home from disc golf this evening (second time in a week I've been in the money only to get bumped by the last freaking card), when my Ipod, on shuffle play, gives me, in succession...

"Life is a Lemon (and I Want My Money Back)" by Meatloaf

and

"The Easter Song" by Keith Green

Man, that's just not right.

D is for Demands

There are 62 songs in my Itunes library beginning with the letter "D." The proximity to the number 64 tempts me to make another bracket, and truth be told I think the "D" songs would kick some serious butt against the "B" songs.

One thing that's odd, though, is that while I have the same number of songs beginning with the letter "D" as the letter "B" there are fewer different words that begin with the letter "D."

There are several songs beginning with some form of the word "dance" including "Dance Me to the End of Love," "Dancing Boy," "Dancing in the Dark," "Dancing Queen," and "Dancing with Myself." [Try to avoid dancing with yourself in the dark until the end of love, though.]

There's a "Desert Pete" and a "Desert Rose."
I've been "Down So Long" that I hardly know if I'm "Down There by the Train," "Down on the Border" or "Down the Road Tonight." I do know that if I go "Down to the Waterline" I may just see the "Downeaster Alexa." I may just be in "Downtown" Akron.

Supertramp is a bunch of "Dreamers." The Nylons "Dream" but Fleetwood Mac "Dreams" but only Sting dreams the "Dream of the Blue Turtles."

The Police are "Driven to Tears" but Johnny Cash will just "Drive On."

By far, the most common form of Itunes advice, however, comes in the form of the negative imperative. A stunning 20 songs begin with the word "Don't." If I take out the two in the interrogative form ("Don't You Want Me?" by the Human League and "Don't You Think It's Time?" by J. Mascis from the Grace of My Heart soundtrack) I'm down to 18. An additional three songs are descriptive--"Don't Need a Gun" by Billy Idol, "Don't Know Much About History" by Sam Cooke, and "Don't Miss You at All" by Norah Jones. So I'm left with a still healthy fifteen prohibitions from my Ipod. Rather than rank them from best to worst, I will rank them from easiest to hardest in terms of taking the musical advice.

Easy:
"Don't Burn the Bridge" (Don McLean)
"Don't Stand So Close to Me" (The Police)
"Don't Stand So Close to Me 86" (The Police)
"Don't You (Forget About Me)" (Billy Idol)

Moderately Difficult, But I think I Can Comply:
"Don't Stop" (Fleetwood Mac)
"Don't Get Me Wrong" (The Pretenders)
"Don't Slow Down" (Mister Mister)

Darn Difficult
"Don't Stop" (Rolling Stones)--Yeah, I know, it's the same title, but somehow I think the Stones are talking about something else than Fleetwood Mac.
"Don't Ask Me Why" (Billy Joel)
"Don't Fear the Reaper" (Blue Oyster Cult); I shouldn't but I do.
"Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me" (Elton John); like that's in my control.
"Don't Pay the Ferryman" (Chris DeBurgh); have you ever tried to stiff the ferryman?
"Don't Give Up" (Peter Gabriel)
"Don't Stop Believin'" (Journey); holding onto that feeling can be hard sometimes.
"Don't Worry About the Government" (The Talking Heads); hard not to when it has us on the road to nowhere. Maybe they heard Leonard Cohen tell them that "Democracy" is coming to the USA.

Demanding bunch these rockers. I must fight to the end, never give up, never slow down, never forget Billy Idol, never misunderstand Chrissie Hynde, and never stand too close to Stewart Copeland. If you can do all that "Day After Day" perhaps at the end of the day you can "Dim All the Lights" take your "Dirty Knife" go see if "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" or just "Drift Away" before all the effort makes you "Driven to Tears."

I would like to respectfully and non-ironically dedicate this blog entry to "Daniel" my brother, who is older than me but who is not, to my knowledge, traveling tonight on a plane.

"C"+ Songs

It's my theory in teaching that the hardest papers to write out grade comments for are the "C+/B-"

My roundabout way of explanation is that people who earn "A"'s and "F"'s know it; most of the time you are documenting objective deficiencies or problems or moving from highlighting specific examples of excellence rather than giving generic or vague praise.

Writers who earn "D's" generally are just happy they didn't fail, while writers who earn "B"'s may be disappointed they didn't get an "A" but may not have had the expectation that they would.

The thing about a "C+" or "B-" is that you are saying, as an evaluator that the work is better than average. You are pointing out successful attributes of the work. Doing so inevitably leads to the question, "Well, then why wasn't the assessment higher?" So you then have to turn around and point out the weaknesses or flaws as well.

It is this requirement to point out both--strengths and weakness--that make grading such works so tricky. In other works you may just have to point out one or the other.

I have 46 "C" songs in my Ipod. (48 actually, but I only counted once for two songs by Sting for which I had two versions--from studio and live album--"Children's Crusade" and "Consider Me Gone.') In ranking them from 1 to 46, I figured the songs ranked 18-23 would be the equivalent of my C+ "C" songs. (Boy, isn't that awkward to type?)

"Corey's Coming" -- Harry Chapin.
Chapin is a story-teller, so as a whole you might like or dislike his work depending on whether or not you like ballads. Like most ballads, this one can move me when the story reaches its climax, and it is there that Chapin's lyrics get the most power via simple directness rather than bombast. ("So I said if you're a relative, he had a peaceful end/That's when she said, "My name is...Corey.../You could say I'm just a friend." On the downside, though, the chorus of this song makes no sense. ("Like I told you/when she holds you/she enfolds you/in her world.") In fact, the chorus suggests that Corey has somehow drawn John Jacob into her world rather than inspiring and sustaining him to survive in his own.

"Christians and the Pagans" -- Dar Williams
I like Dar Williams a lot, but this song lacks some of the ambiguity of Williams's better work ("Teen For God," and "I'll Miss You Till I Meet You" for example). There is a contrast in the lyrics of "CATP" but maybe not the internal conflict borne out of self-questioning and probing leading to a more mature, developed faith. Actually this is true of "Beautiful Enemy" as well, a song I love. It's like the more self-assured the speaker in the song is of the rightness of her position, the less interesting or complex the song is. While there are hints of dawning self-awareness in "Beautiful Enemy" ("I just keep getting above myself..."), "Christians and the Pagans" is a little too pat ("So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table/Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able/
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said?
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses). It's a nice, noble sentiment, that I enjoy, but it's also a bit too mushy to be an "A."

"Celebrate the Child" -- Michael Card
Contemporary Christian Music (CCM)lacks a lot of complexity. It can be repetitive and focus on choruses that sing well in worship services. A good chorus may not be the same thing as a good song to listen to. As a whole, I like Michael Card and I find many of his songs moving and a bit less superficial than most CCM. (Going through the the "C" songs made me rediscover the song "City of Doom" which I think is a really, really interesting mix of music and lyrics.) "Celebrate the Child" is a nice song, but as with many praise songs, there isn't much emotional fluctuation in it. The sentiment is nice, but there isn't much if any variation.

"Cry on My Shoulder" -- Bonnie Raitt
I confess that I mostly just like the tone of Raitt's voice. The song itself is pretty pedestrian:

And in the world outside
It can be harsh and cold
But if you need someone
I will be here to hold you
Cry on my shoulder
I'll help you dry your eyes
Cry on my shoulder
My love
My love

"City of Dreams" -- The Talking Heads
Harry Chapin once famously said that he had a hard time getting songs on the radio because they were too long. The Talking Heads sing songs that don't play well on the radio because they may not catch your ear right off the bat and pop your socks off. They do, though, have legs. "City of Dreams" is song that I like, but it never quite spikes. It's a bit too cerebral and abstract in its lyrics to make it easy to be great, though they are lyrics that might be really interesting if you think about them. The problem, though, is that I'm judging it as a song and not as poetry:

We live in the city of dreams
We drive on the highway of fire
Should we awake
And find it gone
Remember this, our favorite town

"B" is for Bracket

In my alphabetical mosey through my Ipod I'm now up to the letter "B." I noticed that I have 63 songs beginning with the letter "B," and since that was close to 64, which is a magical number in March, I figured I would do what any person would do with too much time on his hands...break up the songs into alphabetical order as rankings and do a bracket challenge. This sort of meaningless exercise makes me nostalgic for the old days of whatsbetter.com, back when you would get two random entries and simply clicked on whichever was better. I used to waste waaay too much time on that site, pondering whether Liquid Soap was better than Nirvana or incense was better than an electric pencil sharpener.

A truly random distribution matching of songs already randomly selected by letter leads to such interesting quandaries as why does Bruce Springsteen have so many songs that begin with the letter "B" ("Born in the USA," "Badlands," "Born to Run," "Better Days," "Brilliant Disguise"), whether or not Dire Straits's "The Bug" is better than Mary Chapin Carepenter's "The Bug" (tough call), and whether Johnny Cash's "Bird on a Wire" is better than Leonard Cohen's "Bird on a Wire" (yes, I think so).

Anyway, here is my final four of "B" songs and the songs they beat to make the final four.

"Brass in Pocket" (The Pretenders)
[Songs beat: "Bearers of the Light" by Michael Card; "Be Thou My Vision" by Fernando Ortega; "Bitter End" by the Dixie Chicks; "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits.]

The Pretenders did have the proverbial easiest path to the finals, somehow drawing CCM into the sweet 16. Still this is a great song. It is (not kidding here), the only song I've ever called a radio station during request hour to request. They didn't play it. Love Chrissie Hynde's vocals.

"Badlands" (Bruce Springsteen)
[Songs beat: "Burn Down the Mission" by Elton John; "Bloody Well Right" by Supertramp; "Brilliant Disguise" by Bruce Springsteen; "Burning Down the House" by the Talking Heads.]

This regional bracket was loaded. Somehow, but a fluke of aphabetizing, almost all the Springsteen songs ended up in the bracket, beating up on each other like ACC teams trying to get into the big dance. I really think Springsteen is underrated as a lyricist. There are times where he can rival Paul Simon for poetic metaphors, but he also has a sardonic edge to him that really encapsulates certain emotions:

"Workin' in the fields
till you get your back burned
Workin' 'neath the wheels
till you get your facts learned
Baby I got my facts
learned real good right now"

I'm mean that's just brilliant.

"The Boy from Tupelo" (Emmylou Harris)
[Songs beat: "Beast of Burden" by The Rolling Stones; "Be Good to Yourself" by Journey; "Blonde over Blue" by Billy Joel; "Beautiful Enemy" by Dar Williams.]

It sort of makes me sad that "Beautiful Enemy" didn't make the final four since it was the song that was playing in a Barnes & Noble one day that literally made me stop in my tracks, go to the counter and say "Who is that?" Still I think that Emmylou Harris's song is more compete (not as flashy at first but it works its way through the song rather than just stopping). I didn't even think it was the best song on the album, but one thing this exercise made me do is relisten to some songs when they came up on shuffle play.

"The Boys of Summer" (Don Henley)
[Songs beat: "The Beast in Me" by Johnny Cash; "Be Still My Beating Heart" by Sting; "Bye, Bye Love" by the Everly Brothers (kind of a neat contrast there); "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen.]

Yes, I'll admit there is some sentimental value here. This song was hot on the radio the year I got engaged (I feel old all of a sudden), so it's the closest thing the spouse and I have to "our song." I will say, as I've gotten older, different things stand out about the song, to whit: "Out on the road today, I saw a Dead Head sticker on a Cadillac / A little voice inside my head said 'don't look back; you can never look back."

So that's my March Madness of "B" songs (not to be confused with "B" sides.

(Don't) Cover Me

So I was thinking about doing an entry for "B" songs on my Ipod and what with the return of American Idol and all I got to thinking about how much it would suck if someone did a cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA."

For the most part I don't have as strong feelings about music as I do about film, but I do think there are some works that are so strongly identified with certain artists that I just think that they should not be covered. I once saw the Kingston Trio in concert and the lead singer reported a story (perhaps apocryphal, but who cares?) that someone suggested to Frank Sinatra that he do a cover of "Scotch and Soda" and when Sinatra demurred and was asked why he wouldn't want to cover the song gave a response roughly equivalent to saying he Bob Shay had made song his own and he would have to be an idiot to try to top him.

We have a concept in athletics--retiring a number. It's not the same as the Hall of Fame. Rather, it means that out of respect for the accomplishments of a player (or his contributions to the team) the team will not let someone else play with that number. Major League baseball has even universally retired one number--42--in honor of Jackie Robinson.

So, what songs would you "retire" if you could? That is, if you could wave a magic wand and make it so that five songs would never be covered by a different artist, which five would you choose?

After thinking about it, here would be five I might place a "no cover" charge on:

1) "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen. Legend had it that former president Ronald Reagan wanted to use it as a campaign song until Springsteen objected. The song is simultaneously a celebration of America and a critique of it. I wouldn't trust just anyone to not try to coopt it for a less bilateral purpose.

2) "Imagine" by John Lennon. I'm not even a Lennon (or Beatles) fanatic, but given his contributions to music and his untimely death, I think Lennon has earned the right to have his signature song untouched by subsequent karaoke shills.

3) "Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin. Chapin played many benefits for world hunger. I suppose, were he alive, he would be happy if his songs could continue to raise money for the "least of these." He said once in his liner notes that he played one night for himself and the next night for the other guy. Until we can say the same, I don't think we should try to benefit ourselves from his songs.

4) "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2. Okay, I get as annoyed by U2dolatry as the next guy, but why on earth would anyone try to cover this song?

5) "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash. This is a hard call because Cash covered his fair share of songs near the end, sometimes putting his signature on someone else's work ("Hurt") sometimes sounding himself like he was doing a bad cover ("Bridge Over Troubled Water"). I just think, like with Chapin, this song is associated with him for a reason beyond the fact that he sang it.

I don't say these are the best songs or even my favorites, but they are ones that I would hope would not be covered. I'm sure they all have been and will be some day, but I hope whoever does fails miserably.

"A" on my Ipod

Because I'm a hopelessly derivative person and have seen other people post on their blogs or columns the "what's in your Ipod" question, I figured that the alphabetical arrangement was as interesting way as any to talk about the music of the moment.

I have twenty-six songs beginning with the letter "A" in my music library. I will try to bullet my (current) three favorites for each letter:

All Out of Love--Air Supply
All Revved Up (With No Place to Go)--Meatloaf
All Right--Amy Grant
All Right Now--[Live]--Queen & Paul Rogers
All the Way to Kingdom Come--Rich Mullins
All You Zombies--The Hooters
Allentown--Billy Joel
Ally Ally Oxen Free--The Kingston Trio
Alone--Heart
Along Comes a Woman--Chicago
Amazon--The Nylons
America--Simon & Garfunkel
And She Was--Talking Heads
And So It Goes--Billy Joel
And We Danced--The Hooters
Angie--The Rolling Stones
*Another Day--Sting
Another One Bites the Dust--Queen
*Anthem--Leonard Cohen
Any Way You Want It--Journey
Anybody Seen My Baby--The Rolling Stones
*Apeman--The Kinks
*Are You Out There?--Dar Williams
Ask the Lonely--Journey
Atlantic City--Bruce Springsteen
Autumn Almanac--The Kinks

#3 Tie ("Apeman"/"Another Day")
I sometime use the Sting song in class to talk about if certain styles or genres lend themselves to certain content/subject matter. I'm always struck in a cognitive dissonance sort of way by the irresistible dance beat of "Another Day" in conjunction with its almost suicidally depressing lyrics. But maybe that's the point. The Kinks' song has a goofy cheerfulness to it that belies its message.

#2 "Anthem"
When I heard a cover of this while watching the DVD Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man, I turned to Cindy and Todd and said, "I hope every artist who has ever written a crappy, derivative CCM song is forced to listen to "Anthem" some day and at least has the decency to feel ashamed."

#1 "Are You Out There?"

I really like Dar Williams's lyrics. Her songs remind me of Paul Simon's lyrics at times, but with a bit more probing spiritual quality. (Yet not openly underscored like CCM.) I didn't like the album this was off of as much as My Better Self, but the song is terrific at expressing the sense of connectedness one longs for at a certain point in life while hinting (perhaps) that that longing is itself a symbol of another, deeper one.

Seven Song Meme Tag

I'm not really on MySpace, so even though I've been blogging for awhile, I've never been "tagged" before. I gather it's a cross between a chain letter and being poked with a stick.

Anyway, my friend Todd Truffin tagged me, which leaves me with the following task:

List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether or not they have words, or even if they’re not any good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to. If you want.

I'll pass on the tagging seven others, but as a diligent friend, here are my songs.

I put the Ipod on Shuffle play and looked for the first seven songs that I was "into" right now:

"Easy Silence"--The Dixie Chicks. I had never listened to a DC album before seeing the documentary Shut Up and Sing. Over a year later, I still get good play from the Taking the Long Way CD I bought the day I saw (and was bowled over by) the documentary. I love the mix of passion and peace in the album, and this song really expresses the way in which a spouse or mate can center those of us with more volatile temperaments.

"The Pearl"--Emmylou Harris. I only have one ELH album. I love the plaintive quality of her voice in this first song. Many of her songs build. I love that there is resolution to her songs, too. So many just fade out over the chorus being repeated.

"I'll Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)"--Meatloaf. Pure bombast, but I love it.

"I Feel Lucky"--Mary Chapin Carpenter. The nice thing about an Ipod, I've discovered is that every now and then a song pops up that you haven't listened to in ages and you say, "hey, I really liked that song." I was never much into that song when I liked the album, but there is a relentless cheerfullness about it that I like.

"Everybody Knows"--Leonard Cohen. I discovered LC this year. Wow. I could pick any song off his greatest hits album. This one was first.

"Teen for God"--Dar Williams. It's such a great mix of self-deprecating irony and sincerity. Wish I had a God for such cynical, cynical times...far from today.

"Lifetime Piling Up"--Talking Heads. There is such an infectious joy in TTH. Sometimes the lyrics are at odds with the music...such as in "Stay Up Late" and in this song. I'm not a dancer, and I like lyrics more than music, but so many of their songs just get beneath me and fill me with life, which is a good thing.