Tuesday, March 24, 2020

10 SONGS: 3/24/2020

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. Given my intention to usually write these on Mondays, the lists are often dominated by songs played on the previous night's edition of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl. The idea was inspired by Don Valentine of the essential blog I Don't Hear A Single.


There was no This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio this week, but we did have an incredible simulation. This week's edition of 10 Songs draws exclusively from the virtual playlist of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio: Isolation Edition.

JOAN ARMATRADING: Me Myself I


I've had a complicated relationship with social interaction. Just a few years ago, I told a friend that I tend to feel out of place no matter where I am or what I'm doing. I'm a square peg, and I'm shy. I conceal it pretty well--anyone who has heard me on the radio will attest to that--and sometimes I can continue playing the role of bon vivant for short spells in real life. It's not really me, but it's the me I think I want to be. I think. I guess. I don't know.

In the early '80s, when I was a recent college graduate still living with my undergraduate girlfriend in our college town of Brockport, radio stations in Buffalo introduced me to the music of Joan Armatrading. It was probably on 97 Rock, an AOR station that aired a better'n decent Sunday night alternative show called 97 Power Rock, or it may have been WUWU-FM, the squarest peg commercial radio station I ever did hear. Either way (or both), I heard radio commercials for Armatrading's 1981 album Walk Under Ladders, and I heard a Walk Under Ladders album track called "Eating The Bear," and liked it. It took me a while to become an Armatrading fan (and I'm still but a casual fan, with her Greatest Hits CD the sole Armatrading offering in my collection), but I got there. As time went on, I became particularly taken with her songs "Drop The Pilot," "When I Get It Right," "I'm Lucky," and "Me Myself I."

"Me Myself I" is a clarion call of willful solitude. It's not who I am either, but there are times when it feels right. Damned good song, too.

ARTFUL DODGER: It's Over


By the summer of 1979, I had read a little bit about Fairfax, Virginia's Artful Dodger, but I had yet to hear a note of their music.  That changed when they played a show at Stage East, a rock club located in a shopping center in Syracuse's Eastern suburbs. I was drawn to this rock 'n' roll Mecca of East Syracuse that night in part because The Flashcubes were the opening act, and I tried very hard to see The Flashcubes as often as I could. 

But I was also curious about Artful Dodger, and man, they did not disappoint. I would later look back on that show and describe the group as a cross between Badfinger and The Faces, a comparison somewhat lacking in total accuracy, but which conveyed my impression of Artful Dodger as a power pop group with rock 'n' roll swagger. God, I loved 'em, and their performance of "It's Over" had me absolutely transfixed. And that evening, the price of admission at Stage East included a souvenir: a four-song EP of tracks from Artful Dodger's eponymous debut album. "Wayside." "Think Think." "Follow Me." "It's Over." My Artful Dodger fandom was set to begin in earnest.

THE BEATLES: For No One



The Beatles! I wrote about this wonderful Paul McCartney song in my annotated list of my all-time 25 favorite Beatles songs: This is perhaps the most dignified and simultaneously one of the saddest descriptions of desperation as love slips inexorably through one's hapless, helpless fingers. It would not have sounded out of place on The Beach Boys' masterpiece Pet Sounds. I will add that its lyrics display a depth and maturity that bely the notion that our Paulie was only capable of writing silly love songs.

SUSAN COWSILL: River Of Love


There is a magic point in art, in creation, where our pain becomes redemption, our sorrow turns to strength, our devastating losses flow like a river into our determination to endure. "River Of Love" was written by Barry Cowsill of The Cowsills, and it's a stunning study in heartbreak, in holding on, in letting go, in hoping against hope that what was lost can still be found again. 

Barry Cowsill perished in 2005, in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. His sister Susan Cowsill performed the song during the months that he was missing. Its meaning had changed, but its sheer beauty had not.  Susan recorded it for her 2010 album Lighthouse, and its impossible mix of the ache of farewell with the determined buoyancy of pop music makes me want to dance and cry at the same time. We'll meet again. Waiting at the river of love.

FIRST AID KIT: America



My daughter Meghan knew about First Aid Kit well before I did, and she played their Emmylou Harris tribute song "Emmylou" during one of her guest DJ stints on This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio. First Aid Kit were among the final musical guests on Late Night With David Letterman in May of 2015, which was where and when they floored me with their sublime cover of Simon & Garfunkel's "America." 

As a teen, I was a Simon & Garfunkel fan, ranking them up in my pop pantheon not all that far below The Beatles. I never stopped being a fan, though I did listen to them with decreasing frequency. My introduction to the song "America" came via the incongruous means of a comic book letters column in the early '70s, wherein a reader closed his missive about the (then) topically-relevant Green Lantern/Green Arrow series by quoting the song's line, And we walked off to look for America. You can scoff if you wanna, and maybe you should, but that seemingly innocuous tag line has stuck with me for decades. I was 12 or 13. I was on a bus going to or from visiting my grandparents in Missouri. Not knowing the song itself yet, I had no idea how very appropriate it was to learn of its existence while traveling on a Greyhound.

Relevance. We search for it in our entertainment and in our art, a connection to what we feel, to what we desire, to where we think we are and what this place looks like today. Relevance. Meaning. Sometimes we imagine a meaning an artist did not intend, but that's fine. That's how art becomes a part of our lives.

First Aid Kit is from Sweden, consisting of sisters Klara and Johanna Söderberg. In their rendition of "America," First Aid Kit's reading of Paul Simon's lyrics takes on a shimmering, gossamer quality that not even Paul and Artie's delicate harmonies could match. 

Cathy, I'm lost, I said though I knew she was sleeping
And I'm empty and aching and I don't know why

The American experiment is nearly two and a half centuries old. This experiment--a nation governed of the people, by the people, for the people, we the people--is ongoing. It has had successes, and it has had failures. There have been times when we've fallen far short of our goal of who we want to be. There have been times when our collective efforts have shined like a beacon of hope around the world.

I still believe in this experiment. The experiment's guiding principle isn't unique--there are other nations that also embrace these concepts of freedom and possibility--but it is, and must remain, America's defining quality. We can be better than we are. We can always seek to be better than we are. The American experiment can choose acceptance over exclusion, charity over greed, humility over arrogance, love over hate. We can. We will. We must. Our goal is written in our mission statement: a more perfect union. This experiment continues. 

All come to look for America.

Let freedom ring.



THE GO-GO'S: Vacation


It puzzles me that The Go-Go's remain so under-appreciated. They were a fabulous group, they wrote great pop songs, and executed those great pop songs as great pop recordings. Yet many still view them as something, I dunno...frilly, or ephemeral. They deserve a lot better consideration than that. Their debut album Beauty And The Beat is nearly flawless; only the quirky, forgettable "Automatic" prevents me from embracing it as a solid, start-to-finish Love At First Spin record. I loved The Go-Go's then, and I love The Go-Go's still.

Before joining The Go-Go's, bassist Kathy Valentine had been in The Textones, a punk-influenced Texas pop group that also featured future solo performer (and future Gene Clark collaborator) Carla Olsen. Valentine's "Vacation" was one of two songs on the B-side of The Textones' 1980 single "I Can't Fight It." The Textones' original version of "Vacation" shares just enough DNA with the 1982 hit version by The Go-Go's to say that yeah, it's the same song. Sort of. The lyrics are different, the melody is different, and the choppy DIY feel of the original offers little clue to how The Go-Go's could change it into such an irresistible, shining object that cuts with the sharp edges of its wistful regret and unfulfilled wishes. A pop masterpiece, I tell ya, and the title track from the second Go-Go's LP.

DAVID JOHANSEN: Frenchette


As in the case of my first Artful Dodger show, that same summer of '79 also made me a David Johansen fan, when I saw him on a bill with--duh--The Flashcubes. Now--how shall I put this? I was 19, I was with friends at both shows, and we were...well, let's say we were really, really psyched to have a good and transcendent rock 'n' roll time by whatever means necessary. At the Artful Dodger show, I remember grooving on what seemed like an endless, extended opening vamp to "It's Over." With David Jo, I remember "Frenchette" blowin' my freakin' mind, its slow, beguilingly pretty intro giving thunderous way to the forceful boom of its big-Rock battering ram. And its lyrical refrain of Let's just dance! embodied a paradox of triumphant surrender. I can't get the kind of love that I want, so let's just dance and I'll forget. Maybe it was nonsense. Maybe it was deep and meaningful. Maybe it was both. Let's just dance.

THE KENNEDYS: Safe Until Tomorrow


During our current necessary period of social distancing, The Kennedys--expatriate North Syracusan Maura Kennedy and her husband (and honorary Central New Yorker) Pete Kennedy--have been doing one-hour live stream performances from their Greenwich Village apartment every Sunday afternoon at 2:00 Eastern. It's a lovely and uplifting way to spend an hour of your time, and you can join 'em for another virtual show this Sunday. Their original tune "Safe Until Tomorrow" closes their show, and its an appropriate theme song to adopt in this time of trouble.

BEN E. KING: Stand By Me


Ben E. King's classic song "Stand By Me" is one of the 124 fine records scheduled to be featured in my proposed book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1). Last week, I had an unpleasant dream where my agent sat me down and told me directly that she would not be able to sell the book because my writing just isn't good enough.

Hmmm. I can be self-deprecating and full of genuine doubt about virtually any aspect of what I do or try to do...except my writing. I always believe in my writing.

Maybe the dream was a reflection of the doubt and uncertainty that I sense all around us lately. I'm probably not really as accomplished a writer as I think I am, sure, but my conviction and belief in my ability is my sole practiced arrogance. Because I'm aware that writing is the only thing I've ever been any damned bit of good at doing. The book still may not find a home--that's always a possibility in any attempted commercial endeavor--but I think the work itself is decidedly, like, not terrible.

"Stand By Me" borders on a religious experience, a timeless ode to the power and strength to be derived simply from faith and devotion. Yet it's not a religious song at all; it's a tacit recognition that such a transcendent feeling of renewal and hope can come not just from the heavens, but also from the genuine loyalty of (and loyalty to) a lover or friend. That's the opening paragraph from my book's Ben E. King chapter. As this world continues to give us more and more reason to question what we think we know, to lose faith in what we believe to be unshakeable truth, it's a sentiment worth adopting as both shield and sword. Stand by me.


MARYKATE O'NEIL: I'm Ready For My Luck To Turn Around


Well. Aren't we all?

Stay safe, my friends.


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This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl airs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, and on the web at http://sparksyracuse.org/ You can read about our history here.

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Hey, Carl's writin' a book! The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) will contain 124 essays about 124 tracks, each one of 'em THE greatest record ever made. An infinite number of records can each be the greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Updated initial information can be seen here: THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE! (Volume 1).

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