Showing posts with label John Lennon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Lennon. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

10 SONGS: 12/25/2024

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. The lists are usually dominated by songs played on the previous Sunday 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.

       

This week's edition of 10 Songs draws exclusively from the playlist for This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio # 1265: The 26th Annual THIS IS ROCK 'N' ROLL RADIO Christmas Show.

JOHN AND YOKO: Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

From a previous post:

John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" was my favorite rock 'n' roll Christmas song for a long, long time, and it's still pretty far up there in my holiday music pantheon. I know that some folks don't like it or are sick of it, and that some even prefer that dishwater Paul McCartney thing (aka "The Cringe That Stole Christmas") when 'tis the season. 

I don't get that. Dig what you dig, of course, but man...I don't get that. To my ears, John and Yoko's Christmas single remains a stirring and engaging plea for peace on Earth, good will toward all. An obvious sentiment? I'm not looking for Proust here. "Happy Xmas" supplies the feels I want in my holiday music, its childlike hope (and children's chorus) never falling prey to the cynical or the overly earnest. It added an aching, awful sense of melancholy forty-four years ago this month. But I never get tired of hearing it.

I'm not one of those who blithely bash Paul McCartney, either. Seeing Macca perform live in 2017 was the highlight of my concert-goin' career, I listen to solo Paul more often than I listen to solo John, and they were equal partners in the greatest rock 'n' roll band this world will ever experience. Nonetheless: I can't stand "Wonderful Christmastime." I absolutely adore "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)."

(For my further thoughts on this subject, see my piece Yoko For Christmas.)

MIKE BROWNING: It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

We debuted our pal Mike Browning's most wonderful new cover of "It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" on last week's show, and we use it again this week (after our John and Yoko intro) to open The 26th Annual THIS IS ROCK 'N' ROLL RADIO Christmas Show. This year, I'm especially grateful to Mike for his invaluable assistance in advising, amending, and improving my 2024 book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1); our Mike's efforts on behalf of that project should secure him a permanent berth on Santa's NICE! list. Thanks again, Mike! Wonderful is as wonderful does.

(And speakin' of wonderful: We'll hear Mike Browning again on our Countdown show this coming Sunday night.)

THE GRIP WEEDS: Christmas, Bring Us [acoustic]

We'll also hear the Grip Weeds again on the Countdown show--the Grip Weeds are a fairly safe bet to appear on our Countdown in any given year--but this Christmas show spin of "Christmas, Bring Us" serves the additional Oh HELL Yeah! of promoting The Very Best Of Hi-Fi Christmas Party. We ARE Santa's elves! This new digital compilation comes to us from the visionary Keith Klingensmith's Futureman Records label, and it gathers the best from our man Dan Pavelich's Yuletide essential various-artists Hi-Fi Christmas Party discs. 

The Grip Weeds' "Christmas, Bring Us" was on 2006's Hi-Fi Christmas Party Volume 2 (and on the group's on 2011 collection Under The Influence Of Christmas), but I think--I think--this acoustic take is new to the Hi-Fi Christmas Party universe, and otherwise only available on the expanded deluxe edition of Under The Influence Of Christmas. I'd verify that, but c'mon--who has time to check stuff this time of year? Unique or not, your stocking ain't properly stuffed without The Very Best Of Hi-Fi Christmas Party

THE FLESHTONES: Hurray For Santa Claus

For Pia Zadora, wherever she is. 

And anyone who sez Santa Claus Conquers The Martians is one of the all-time worst films deserves nuttin' for Christmas--not even coal. Call the big guy! 

We spell it S-A-N-T-A C-L-A-U-S, hurray for Santy Claus! 

I figure the difference between spelling and pronunciation can be attributed to Martian accents.

DAVID WOODARD: Around The Power Pop Tree

The title track from David Woodard's 2024 Kool Kat Musik album Around The Power Pop Tree celebrates the enduring kvell of discovering the gift of music stacked under the ol' trimmed 'n' tricked out Tannenbaum. As someone whose own prevailing and pervasive love of the Kinks began with a Christmas 1976 present of a 2-LP British Invasion compilation, I can relate and affirm with wide eyes and raised fist.

In 2017, I wrote about the ongoing glow of the memories of past Christmas gifts:

"Christmas still inspires a warm and comfy feeling in my mind. There have been Yuletime moments that were less than glittery--developing car trouble on a snowy trek to Missouri in 1970, spending Christmas alone with a stack of old comic books and a bottle of Jack Daniels in 1982, suddenly having to fly to Ohio for a funeral in the early '90s, stuck home with chicken pox at the age of 36 in 1996, the first Christmas after a devastating family tragedy in 2008, and after my Dad died in 2012--yet I retain an instinct to associate Christmas with a feeling of happiness. The sadness is there, too; I see the empty chairs at the dinner table, I feel the drag of sand falling in the hourglass, I sense the finite nature of all we love. This Christmas has offered its own unique set of challenges. Sometimes it seems as if there are challenges poised to attack from all directions.

"And nonetheless: I love Christmas. I hope I always will. I hope yours is merry and bright. The challenges will wait for us, at least for a little, little bit. A spin of Nat King Cole. A sip of eggnog. A tree that casts its glow into our hearts. Presents to exchange, fleeting moments to share, food to savor, company to enjoy. It will not last forever.

"Except that it does. I can still be seven years old, if only for one day. Maybe you can be, too."

Since the above was written, I've lost my Mom and my oldest brother. My daughter got married--that's a happy memory--and there was, y'know, a pandemic. I have aged more than the mere seven years that the calendar pages indicate. But I'm okay. I still know delight, I still know joy, and I still feel the gratitude for the good things I've enjoyed. I still love. I am still loved.

So let's all gather around the power pop tree. David Woodard will lead us in song. (And we'll hear him again on the Countdown show, too. Another chance to gather 'round.)

THE IDEA: It's About That Time

The Greatest Record Ever Made!

THE RAMONES: Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)

From a previous post:

The Ramones' "Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)" is almost totally devoid of irony. It feels earnest, sincere. Honest. It really is a straightforward love song, Ramonesified by its pace and the deliberate quirk of its lyrical queries about the whereabouts of Santa, his sleigh, and his errant reindeer. Where is Rudolph, where is Blitzen, baby?

Merry Christmas. Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas.

No relationship is free of discord. Lovers, friends, siblings, other family members. Disagreements and arguments will occur, and no amount of love can alter that truth. Some relationships aren't worth saving. 

Some are.

I love you, and you love me
And that's the way it's got to be
I loved you from the start
'Cause Christmas ain't the time for breaking each other's heart.

No matter what Her Majesty's Ramones the Beatles insisted, it is not true that all you need is love. Nor is it a fact that love conquers all. But mutual love? Respect? Consideration? My friends, that can accomplish a lot. Love can change the world. It can't do it alone...but it can do it if love accompanies love. Love with love, together, side by side? 

It can happen.

It has to happen. 

Peace on Earth. Good will toward all. It's an elusive goal. 

But it's our only hope. 

Hope begins with love. Maybe the Ramones are unlikely avatars of hope and love. On "Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)," they nail it nonetheless.

Merry Christmas. We don't want to fight tonight. As tonight becomes tomorrow, as tomorrow becomes today, we could do worse than listening to the Ramones. 

Like swords into ploughshares: Anyone up for decorating a baseball bat?

LIBRARIANS WITH HICKEYS: Listen, The Snow Is Falling

Another act we'll be hearing on the Countdown show, Librarians With Hickeys merit extra gravitas for forcing me to appreciate the splendor of Yoko Ono's "Listen, The Snow Is Falling." Yoko's original version was the B-side of "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)," but I'm not sure I ever heard any version of it prior to Librarians With Hickeys' mesmerizing 2016 cover. The Librarians' cover was itself a B-side (of the group's original "Jingle Jangle Heart"); the A-side is terrific--a Grade-A prime example of why we adore Librarians With Hickeys--but we can't resist "Listen, The Snow Is Falling." It's become a TIRnRR Christmas season prerequisite, and it prompted me to seek out Yoko's also-mesmerizing rendition. Worth a listen, again and again.

(And yes, there will be original Librarians With Hickeys music on the Countdown show, but we're also really, really looking forward to hearing a new cover they're recording for a 2025 project. The hype for that project will fall like Syracuse snow when its own season arrives.)

THE MONKEES: Riu Chiu

From a previous post:

The Christmas episode of The Monkees aired at the end of 1967, a big year for the Monkees. Their biggest year, actually; they probably outsold the Beatles. Michael Nesmith once suggested that the Monkees outsold the Beatles and the Rolling Stones combined in '67, and later claimed that he was joking, and testing to see if anyone would take the claim seriously. But whether he made it up or whether it's true, it's plausible. The Monkees were really, really popular in 1967. It was all going to go away in 1968.

But when they did the Christmas episode, the Monkees--Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, and Peter Tork--were on top of the world. They had proven themselves to anyone willing to be sufficiently open-minded to accept, y'know, evidence. Granted, even as they started to play some of their own music, they were still managed, still part of a corporate machinery. But they had a hand in what they were doing.

In the Christmas episode, near the end of the show, the Monkees come on, just the four of them--Micky, Davy, Michael, and Peter--and do an a cappella performance of a 16th century Spanish folk song called "Riu Chiu." It's stunning. If you haven't seen it, you must. Talentless? Boy band? That's absurd. Watch the video. If you don't agree there's talent there, you aren't paying attention.

I'm a believer. Monkees fans are believers by definition. As we listen to the Monkees sing at Christmas, we acknowledge that Christmas itself invites belief. I am not religious by any stretch of the imagination. I don't belong to any church, and I'm not part of any organized faith. But I believe in the Golden Rule. I believe that we can be good, that we can be better than we are. That we can improve, and become the sort of souls we wish we could be. I believe that such belief transcends creed.

Belief is its own reward. Join us.

Believe.

GEORGE HARRISON: Ding Dong, Ding Dong

Ring out the old, ring in the new. But don't discard anything more than what should be consigned to the dustbin. There are good things, great things, we must retain and maintain, But we must remain open to new things, in hope that they can eventually become good old things for us to retain and maintain.

Here's to the old, and here's to the new. Happy Holidays from Dana and Carl.

If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit to CC's Tip Jar

My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.

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, streaming at SPARK stream and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. Recent shows are archived at Westcott Radio. You can read about our history here.

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, streaming at SPARK stream and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. Recent shows are archived at Westcott Radio. You can read about our history here.

Thursday, December 22, 2022

10 SONGS: 12/22/2022

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. The lists are usually dominated by songs played on the previous Sunday 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.

This week's edition of 10 Songs draws exclusively from the playlist for The 24th Annual This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio Christmas Show. This show is available as a festive podcast.

JOHN & YOKO: Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

From 2020:

John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" was my favorite rock 'n' roll Christmas song for a long, long time, and it's still probably my all-time # 3 (and yes, the two that surpassed it will appear in the paragraphs below). I know that some folks don't like it or are sick of it, and that some even prefer that dishwater Paul McCartney thing (aka "The Cringe That Stole Christmas") when 'tis the season. 

I don't get that. Dig what you dig, of course, but man...I don't get that. To my ears, John and Yoko's Christmas single remains a stirring and engaging plea for peace on Earth, good will toward all. An obvious sentiment? I'm not looking for Proust here. "Happy Xmas" supplies the feels I want in my holiday music, its childlike hope (and children's chorus) never falling prey to the cynical or the overly earnest. It added an aching sense of melancholy forty-two years ago this month. But I never get tired of hearing it.

I'm not one of those who blithely bash Paul McCartney, either. Seeing Macca perform live in 2017 was the highlight of my concert-goin' career, I listen to solo Paul more often than I listen to solo John, and they were equal partners in the greatest rock 'n' roll band this world will ever experience. Nonetheless: I can't stand "Wonderful Christmastime." I absolutely adore "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)."

LAURIE BIAGINI: Christmas In The Air

Each year's annual TIRnRR Christmas show has to accommodate a number of classic Dana & Carl holiday perennials, whether it's Dana spinning Marvin Gaye's "Purple Snowflakes" or me making sure to include "The Man In The Santa Suit" by Fountains Of Wayne. A three-hour time slot doesn't allow anywhere near enough airspace to squeeze in all of the Christmas music we wanna play.

But we always try to make some time for a few new Christmas tunes alongside your Pretenders and your Ronettes. Laurie Biagini scored some significant TIRnRR spinnage throughout 2022--it's no spoiler to say that Ms. Biagini's music will appear in our big year-end COUNTDOWN!! show on January 1st--and we were delighted to open The 24th Annual This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio Christmas Show with Laurie's "Christmas In The Air." 

BIBI FARBER WITH THE MICHAEL LYNCH ORCHESTRA: Gonna Ask Santa Claus

From 2020:

My favorite pop-rock Christmas song of this young century so far, and my second favorite all-time. (We'll talk about my # 1 pick in just a sec.) This track is magic, and I mean it as a compliment when I say it sounds like something of a much older vintage, classic '50s or '60s rather than 2013. It's never been issued on CD. Somebody should remedy that.

DOLPH CHANEY: Jingle Bells

HA! It's a Van Halen Christmas, except without Van Halen! From the 2020 holiday sampler album Big Stir Singles: The Yuletide Wave, TIRnRR stalwart Dolph Chaney shrugs off his good twin--that's an in-joke for the TIRnRR faithful--and embraces the nice 'n' naughty notion of remaking "Jingle Bells" as it would be if the li'l ditty self-indentified as VH's "Panama." Preposterous? You'd be surprised by how many songs you think you know that believe themselves to be something else entirely. Especially Christmas songs! Must be something in the eggnog.

THE FLIRTATIONS: Christmas Time Is Here Again

I often whine about the legions of one-hit wonders who well and truly deserved greater acclaim than the mere fifteen minutes (if that) a fickle public allowed them. From the Knickerbockers to the Bobby Fuller Four to the Easybeats and more, it's clear that a lot of acts capable of coming with ONE!! killer record--seemingly outta nowhere--probably also made other records of note. If more people had heard them, more people would have loved them, and a one-hit wonder woulda been a two-hit wonder, a five-hit wonder, maybe even a friggin' superstar. There is so, so much great stuff out there. And we miss out on hearing so, so much of it.

The Flirtations were one-hit wonders for their fabulous 1969 smash "Nothing But A Heartache." It was not their only fab soul-pop triumph, but it was the only one that got played. Its B-side was a groovy seasonal shot called "Christmas Time Is Here Again," and it oughtta be on everyone's Yuletime playlist.

(And yeah, we deliberately played the Flirtations' "Christmas Time Is Here Again" immediately prior to spinning the Beatles' 1967 Christmas message, which is also called "Christmas Time Is Here Again." Different song, sure, but we hope Santa will make note of our ingenuity on behalf of the greater pop good.)

TALL POPPY SYNDROME: Come Some Christmas Eve (Or Halloween) [holiday mix]

Here's the holiday mix of Tall Poppy Syndrome's "Come Some Christmas Eve (Or Halloween)," a track also heard in its original mix on our irresistible 2022 compilation album This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 5. And I tell ya, that compilation makes a superswell gift ANY time of year.

THE MONKEES: Riu Chiu

The Greatest Record Ever Made!

THE IDEA: It's About That Time


From 2020:

I can't fully explain why I love this song so much. Oh! I know! Because it's perfect. Perfect blend of giddy abandon and cool control, perfect embrace of December joy, perfect use of casual holiday elements--streets painted white, windows aglow with colored lights, on the TV It's A Wonderful Life--to craft a perfect Yuletune like no other. Yuletunes is the name of the 1991 Christmas compilation that gave us "It's About That Time" by the Idea (later Phil Angotti and the Idea), and it remains one of the all-time greatest Christmas albums. "It's About That Time" will likely always be my all-time favorite rockin' pop Christmas songs. Perfect.

NAT KING COLE: The Christmas Song

Phil Angotti's "It's About That Time" is my favorite rockin' pop Christmas track. Nat King Cole's rendition of "The Christmas Song" is my favorite holiday standard. Nothing else is in its class.

A few days ago, we talked about my favorite Christmas story, which is writer Mark Evanier's lovely account of an afternoon when "The Christmas Song" co-author Mel Tormé was...oh, just go read it. That story reinforces the connection I feel with the song, how it conjures my emotional concept of Christmas spirit, of an idealized Christmas from the POV of tiny tots with their eyes all aglow, and a simple phrase offered to kids from one to ninety-two (and beyond).

I wrote this a few years back, and it remains in my mind every Christmas:

The holiday season can invite reminiscence, a collective conjuring of the Ghost of Christmas Past. We remember things as we think they were. We rejoice in memories of good times, wince at the lingering ache of sad times. We picture family, friends, lovers, many of them now gone from our own lives. Death. Distance. Discord. Time.

I remember being a kid in the '60s, excited to open the colorful gifts that Santa left under our Christmas tree for me to discover far too early on the morning of December 25th. Games! Toys! Captain Action! Christmas Eves with family, gathered at my Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary's house. FOOD! A 1970 road trip to see my grandparents in Missouri, delayed by car trouble that turned into a struggle half-way across Indiana. Singing carols with other kids at the Italian-American Athletic Club Christmas party. Aging (in theory) out of a personal belief in Father Christmas, and playing Santa's helper (specifically, Santa's Chief Elf Myron) in a phone call to the child of one of Dad's co-workers. 

A little kid becomes a teen, with Doc Savage paperbacks and Beatles records on Christmas morning. A college student. There is another family trip to Missouri, spent recovering from a stomach bug and missing a girl I'd met at school. The college student becomes a college graduate. And suddenly, a young adult, alone one Christmas morning with a stack of old comic books and a bottle of Jack Daniels, knowing solitude won't last, but knowing it has to be that way in the moment, knowing a loved one is dealing with something much worse. Years fly by. Jobs change, addresses change, circles of friends change. Faces that were always there aren't there anymore. We deck the halls, but feel this loss we may be able to define, but can't deny.

So we close our eyes. And we wish.

In the mind's eye, all is as it was. Everyone we ever loved remains with us. I remember the bright and the dark: coming home from an overnight Christmas Eve shift to share a bottle of champagne and a Christmas kiss with my girlfriend, whom I would marry the following year; my chicken pox Christmas, when I was 36; Christmas Eves with my wife and daughter, eating Chinese food and cruising through Lights On The Lake; doing a Christmas radio show while trying to cope with tragedy, playing Gary Frenay's "Christmas Without You" and becoming too choked up to speak, unable to continue; watching the wide eyes of my daughter as she grew up under the bright glow of the season, and delighting again this week in the sight of her and her mother lighting the Chanukah candles together; seeing fewer and fewer places and faces at family gatherings, always aware of the price that time demands of us all.

And still I believe.

I may not believe what you believe. I may not believe what you think I believe. But I believe. I believe in our promise. I believe in our capacity to grow, to be better. I believe in a magic we make together.

I wish you magic. I wish you hope. I wish you love. I wish you the merriest. Somehow. Santa will find you. Light will find you. Believe in light. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

GEORGE HARRISON: Ding Dong, Ding Dong

Ring out the old, ring in the new. Happy Holidays from Dana & Carl.

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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.

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

10 SONGS: 7/6/2021

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.

For this week's epic July 4th blowout, we presented a countdown of TIRnRR's 55 all-time most played artists, with each artist's all-time # 1 most-played track. Thanks again to the mighty Fritz Van Leaven for programming the countdown. And in the spirit of the countdown, we'll have three editions of 10 Songs this week, celebrating our 30 most-played acts with their most-played songs. As befits a greatest-hits revue, most of the individual song entries have been seen before on this blog, with maybe a couple of previously-unreleased selections as needed.

This first of this week's three celebratory 10 Songs begins with our 30th all-time most-played artist.

30. CHUCK BERRY: PROMISED LAND


Chuck Berry knew well the travails of the downtrodden. Dark skin, humble origin, destined to transcend all and everything to become the single most important performer in the history of rock 'n' roll. His mind was quick, his fingers precise, wedding intricate, unforgettable wordplay to a guitar he played like a-ringin' a bell. He struggled. He pushed. He got noticed. He got pushed back. He kept pushing back in turn, smiling and duck-walking, while quietly seething behind his flamboyant mask. A nice man? Tough to say, but beside the point. An important man? If you've ever loved rock 'n' roll, you should be ashamed to even ask that question.

Berry built the foundation (and much of the walls) of his legacy in the '50s, when segregation was commonplace throughout much of this Land of the Free, when failure to mind one's place wasn't just a breach of protocol; it was a de facto criminal act. 

Into this tinderbox, Chuck Berry brought black music that made white kids dance. He wrote in code--most famously, the irresistibly potent brown-skinned handsome man became (wink) a brown-eyed handsome man, man--but he crafted and chronicled the American teen-age dream with greater eloquence than anyone, black or white. It was inevitable that he would be slapped down.

Some say that he mighta had it coming. Maybe. Others say the rap was racially-motivated, pure and simple. Berry was busted for a violation of the Mann Act, transporting a minor across a state line for immoral purpose. It's plausible to suggest that Berry may have been guilty, but it's also plausible that he wasn't. Guilty or not, Berry spent a year and a half behind bars. While still a guest of the state, Berry wrote "Promised Land." 

Fitting.

With its music adapted from the traditional "Wabash Cannonball," Berry's "Promised Land" tells the tale of a poor boy from Norfolk, Virginia following his dream west, chasing a vision of prosperity and bliss in the same mythic paradise sought by Tom Joad, sought by some members of my own family: California. The Promised Land.

The road to the promised land is laden with setbacks, peril, like the Greyhound that had motor trouble that turned into a struggle half-way across Alabam', 'til that hound broke down and left 'em all stranded in downtown Birmingham. But there is also deliverance: a through train ticket from Birmingham to New Orleans, hitchhikin' to loved ones in Houston, who--sure as you're born!--won't let the poor boy down: new silk suit, luggage in his hand, he wakes up high over Albuquerque on a jet to the promised land.

It's the wee wee hours at the end of 1964. The Beatles and the Animals and the Rolling Stones are already in the process of reminding everyone that "Chuck Berry" and "rock 'n' roll" are the same damned thing, and they won't let the poor boy down, either. He's seen the promised land. We've all seen the promised land. We feel its warmth, taste its sweet sense of liberty, of possibility. Freedom. Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling, and the poor boy is on the line.

29. THE GRIP WEEDS: Every Minute

The Grip Weeds have certainly been a long-standing, consistent favorite on This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio for many years now.  I heard the group for the first time via legendary power pop performer Paul Collins.

Collins' connection was tangential, really. A label called Wagon Wheel Records was formed in the early '90s by Collins and Rick Wagner, and Wagon Wheel released the Paul Collins Band's From Town To Town CD in 1993, and subsequently also reissued Collins' first two classic Beat albums. Wagon Wheel's final CD release (I think) before shutting down in the late '90s was a 1995 pop compilation called Pop MattersPop Matters served as my introduction to the music of Jeremy (whose own label JAM Recordings would eventually put out the first two TIRnRR comps), the TearawaysBig Hellothe Rockinghams, and the Hippycrickets, and my first Cockeyed Ghost CD track (that group's Adam Marsland had already treated me to some prime Cockeyed Ghost material on mix tapes). Pop Matters opened with a song called "Salad Days," and that was the first time I heard the Grip Weeds.

Beyond that, the chronology of my rapid and total indoctrination into the blissful Grip of Weedsmania blurs. I may have become more interested via the group's connection with the Rooks, another of the great pop bands of the '90s. Rooks guitarist Kristin Pinell was (and is) also in the Grip Weeds. Kristin's husband Kurt Reil was (and is) the drummer and lead singer for the Grip Weeds, and he played with the Rooks, too. I don't know whether or not guitarist Rick Reil also served any Rooks time, but either way: the Grip Weeds seemed like a band I oughtta know.

And getting to know the Grip Weeds was its own sweet reward.

The Grip Weeds made their TIRnRR debut on our third show, 1/10/99, with a spin of "Out Of Today" from their debut album House Of Vibes. We've never really ceased playing them since then. Why should we? Why would we? Across a span of great Grip Weeds albums--The Sound Is In YouSummer Of A Thousand YearsGiant On The BeachStrange Change MachineHow I Won The War, the best-of set Infinite Soul, the holiday offering Under The Influence Of Christmas, the in-concert Speed Of Live, the rarities collection Inner Grooves--the group has given us a wealth of rockin' pop treasure to play with, and to just plain play. "Every Minute." "I Believe." "Save My Life." "Rainbow Quartz."  "It Ain't No Big Thing, Babe" (a particular favorite of Dana's). Two different versions of "Rainy Day." "Truth (Is Hard To Take)." 
Ace covers of the Knickerbockers' "Lies." the Monkees' "For Pete's Sake," and (most recently) the Beach Boys' "You're So Good To Me." These are but a handful of the terrific Grip Weeds tracks that have earned repeated berths on TIRnRR playlists.

"Every Minute" may be my favorite. And it is definitely our most-played Grip Weeds track.

28. THE MUFFS: Saying Goodbye

For a very long time, "Saying Goodbye" by the Muffs was my top track of the '90s, and I'm not sure that's changed since then.  The song came from the group's eponymous debut album in 1993, an album I reviewed for Goldmine:

"There is a current branch of chaotic pop--call it melodic thrash, or bubblegrunge, or bash and pop (to steal the name of Tommy Stinson's new group)--that seems to draw equal inspiration from the New York Dolls, KISS, the Ramones, the Runaways, and the Buzzcocks, though the Replacements are the most obvious common reference point. It's a broad category, and it includes to some extent the Goo Goo Dolls, Star Star, various ex-Replacements, and even Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit.'

"The Muffs' debut album is squarely of that strain, and it's a right exhilarating whiff of same. The Muffs include Kim Shattuck and Melanie Vammen, two former members of the Pandoras, whose best work deserved a wider audience. Shattuck and Vammen have traded in their respective bass and keyboard duties for lead and rhythm guitars here, and Shattuck does most of the lead vocals. Bassist Ronnie Bartnett and drummer Criss Crass are the token males.

"The Muffs' 16 tracks jump up and down with manic glee, characterized by amphetamine-fueled rhythm and punk-pop hooks. It's an immediate improvement over all of the Pandoras' work since 1986's Stop Pretending, and it's a righteous, rowdy good time. Key tracks include 'Saying Goodbye'--a rockin' delight that would be getting saturation airplay right now in a world more just than our own--plus 'Don't Waste Another Day' and 'Eye To Eye,' each of which is as close to a power ballad as the Muffs are likely to come. The acoustic 'All For Nothing' closes the show in style (with an unnamed 20-second hardcore thrash serving as an unbilled encore). Anyone who mourns the demise of the Pandoras, or who simply enjoys the the thrill of a pop-rock assault with intent to kill, will be well-served here."

27. THE VELVET UNDERGROUND: Who Loves The Sun

Who loves the sun? Who remembers the sun...?!

(That line was marginally funnier when I used it last year. Marginally.)

25 [tie]. THE FLAMIN' GROOVIES: Shake Some Action

In the spring of 1978, I heard a compilation LP called New Wave. The record included a few tracks I already knew (by the Ramonesthe Runaways, and Richard Hell & the VoidOids), a great Talking Heads track I didn't know, and a few other things that were new to me, too (including stuff by the Damned and the Dead Boys). And, of course, New Wave included a Flamin' Groovies song called "Shake Some Action."

"Shake Some Action."

I consider myself fortunate to be the sort of wide-eyed pop fan that can sometimes fall in love with a song or a band instantly. It doesn't always work that way, but when it does, it's magic. It was magic when I heard "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker" by the Ramones. It was magic when I saw the Flashcubes live. And it was magic when I heard "Shake Some Action."

The song was just...hypnotic. There were so many little elements combining and clashing within that track, with bits of the Byrds and Phil Spector, a brooding, booming bass, guitars that seemed to snarl and jangle at the same time, punk swagger, pop yearning, and an insistent instrumental hook that grabbed me and whispered silkily in my ear, You're with us now, son. It was a recipe for cacophony, a surefire roadmap to a sonic mess...except that it wasn't. It was precise. It was perfect. And I swear, in that moment, I knew it was The Greatest Record Ever Made.

25 [tie]. THE DAVE CLARK FIVE: Any Way You Want It

A Wall of Noise.

When I think of the British Invasion, I think of the Beatles in 1964, of course; but the first two songs that come to my mind aren't Beatle tunes; they're "You Really Got Me" by the Kinks and "Glad All Over" by the Dave Clark Five. Those two singles sum up rabid, frenzied Fabmania even better than any moptop-shakin' Yeah Yeah Yeah! In '64, the game was accelerating faster and faster, with every Beatles, DC5, or Kinks 45 upping the ante for contested spots on the pop charts and notches on the transistor radio's volume control. Rule, Britannia.

In this dizzying environment, the Dave Clark Five delivered a single with a massive, monolithic, moving Wall Of Noise like nothing else: "Any Way You Want It."  Hearing it on the radio must have felt like a blackjack to the skull. There were no highs or lows, no peaks or valleys in its sound, just a solid, sonic whoooooosh to knock you over. The record pummels you, and assumes command of your body, soul, tapping feet, and feverish, air-drummin' arms. Whoooooosh. Whomp. Any way you want it, that's the way it will be.

In our far-future world here in the 21st century, with our jetpacks and our flyin' cars and...wait, we don't really have any of those. Still, it's difficult to look back and truly appreciate how radical and new this must have sounded in 1964. A Wall Of Noise. For two and a half minutes, "Any Way You Want It" is the only song in the world, the only song that's ever been, the only song that matters. Years later, both KISS and the Ramones--two acts more than capable of capturing Wow! on wax--would release covers of "Any Way You Want It," and neither could come within light years of the DC5's original version.

24. THE BAY CITY ROLLERS: Wouldn't You Like It

When I was in college in the late '70s, I had a friend named Jane, who was a DJ on the Brockport campus radio station. We hung out together a few times, including one night when I kibbitzed with her in the studio while she did her radio show. And I requested one specific song....

By the end of the Me Decade, former teen idols the Bay City Rollers were persona non grata to the buying public, an embarrassing relic of adolescence for those (mostly female) fans who'd outgrown their puppy-eyed crushes on this Tartan-clad combo. And most music lovers who identified as older, male, hipper, and/or more mature just despised the Rollers all along.

But not me. Once I learned to ignore the ludicrous notion of the Rollers as the next Beatles, I found that I liked some of the Rollers' records just fine, thanks. I was especially taken with "Rock And Roll Love Letter" and "Yesterday's Hero." When I became aware of the notion of power pop, I was delighted to learn that the writers of Bomp! magazine included the Bay City Rollers as at least a tangent to that discussion.



I saw the Rollers lip-sync an album track called "Wouldn't You Like It" on the Midnight Special TV show, and I was instantly captivated by its power-chord riffs, chugging rhythm, and sheer overall oomph. My interest in the Rollers wasn't then sufficient to prompt me to buy many of their records--I had the "Rock And Roll Love Letter" and "Saturday Night" 45s, and the Dedication and It's A Game LPs--but my girlfriend's pal Debi was an unrepentant Rollers fan; she had the Rock And Roll Love Letter album, and played "Wouldn't You Like It" for me. Man, what a great track.

So some time later, when I was chilling with mi amiga pequeña Jane as she did her radio show, I bugged Jane to play "Wouldn't You Like It." Bugged. Begged. Pestered. Pleaded. No, Carl!, she insisted, I'm not playing the freakin' Bay City Rollers on my show! She finally relented just to shut me up. The song played...and, to her surprise, she liked it, and said so on the radio. Gotta give her credit for that. She went so far as to say that if the Rollers had just come along a couple of years later than they did, they would have been considered part of the new wave. 

That was more than forty years ago. We were pals, and we parted as pals. I still think of Jane whenever I play that song, a Bay City Rollers album track that illustrated the transcendent value of ignoring prejudices, and embodied the enduring strength of friendship. And I dedicate the song once again, as I did on the radio just the other night, to an old comrade. This one goes out to my friend Jane, wherever she is. Thanks again, my friend.

23. THE ROLLING STONES: Get Off Of My Cloud

1965 was pop music's best year ever. I didn't truly start to appreciate the year's bounty until more than a decade later, when I began to discover essential '65 gems by the Kinks, Wilson PickettJames BrownBuck Owensthe Yardbirdsthe Beau Brummels, the Byrds, the Four Topsthe TemptationsPaul Revere and the RaidersFontella Bass, the Small Facesthe Dixie Cupsthe Voguesthe Whothe Zombies, the Miraclesthe HolliesGeorge JonesStevie Wonder, and so, so many more. Whatta year! The best stuff was popular, and the popular stuff was the best.

Even if I had to wait until teendom to understand the splendor that was all around me when I was five, there was still much I knew as it happened. I certainly knew "Get Off Of My Cloud." I may not have had reason to believe the Rolling Stones were substantively different from contemporary hitmeisters like the Dave Clark Five, Herman's Hermitsthe Castaways, or Gary Lewis and the Playboys, but I remember that voice bellowing out of transistor radios: Don't hang around boy, two's a crowd! At five, I thought the twisting of the familiar "Two's company, three's a crowd" maxim was interesting. This record was probably my introduction to the idea of a song having swagger.

22. JOHN LENNON [John & Yoko]: Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

Yeah, we included a Christmas song in a July radio show because a countdown doesn't care about your petty little calendar. John Lennon is TIRnRR's all-time 22nd most-played artist, and "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" is our most-played Lennon track.

To my ears, this song remains a stirring and engaging plea for peace on Earth, good will toward all. An obvious sentiment? I'm not looking for Proust here. "Happy Xmas" supplies the feels I want in my holiday music, its childlike hope (and children's chorus) never falling prey to the cynical or the overly earnest. I never get tired of hearing it.

Yoko Ono may have saved John Lennon's life. When he met Yoko, John was floundering. His first marriage was doomed; that was mostly (entirely?) John's fault, and neither fame nor acclaim, nor even artistic accomplishment, were helping him find happiness. He found happiness with Yoko. When they split for a while in the '70s, John realized leaving Yoko was a mistake; the separation didn't work out. So, once again, they were together, man. Happy.

John and Yoko's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)" has always been one of my favorite Christmas records. It acquired a bitter taste of melancholy at the end of 1980, but its sense of hope, its embrace of light, its repudiation of our darker impulses all shine on (like the moon and the stars and the sun, as another Lennon song phrased it). The song makes me sad, but it makes me happy, too. I don't think that song would exist if not for Yoko.

You don't have to be a Yoko fan. You don't even have to like her, I guess, but there's no rational reason why you should dislike her. Maybe I should give some of her music another chance, though I doubt I'll suddenly discover it's, you know, my music. But I like Yoko herself. You should, too. Happy Christmas, John. Happy Christmas, Yoko.

20 [tie]. MARY LOU LORD: Aim Low

December 28th, 1998: the very first episode of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl. I'd never even heard of Mary Lou Lord, but Dana played "Lights Are Changing" on our debut show, and I was smitten. She played a disastrous Syracuse date in 1999, but we had a chance to meet her and chat for a while. She was a new mom at the time, and my daughter was just shy of four years old, so we spent a bit of time comparing notes; the experience led me to say later on that if someone had told me years ago I'd spend an evening in conversation with a major label recording artist, and that we'd spend most of the time talking about our kids...well, I'd have been skeptical of that claim, I guess. 

Mary Lou Lord is one of the defining artists of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio's long and storied history, and I'm grateful we had that chance to connect. Oh, and her version of Nick Saloman's "Aim Low" is The Greatest Record Ever Made.

10 Songs will return on Thursday, July 8th, with the next set of songs from this week's countdown show. That begins with the artist tied with Mary Lou Lord at the # 20 spot.

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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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