I’m thrilled to announce that the short film I wrote (really it’s one scene of a full-length, but we shot as a standalone), July and Half of August, will be screening this year at Ebertfest (along with an exciting slate including Elle, Being There, Pleasantville, Hair, and many more.) Many thanks to Chaz Ebert and program director Nate Kohn for including July and Half of August in the festival.
The film was directed by Brandeaux Tourville, and stars the wonderful Annika Marks and Robert Baker. The cinematographer was Peter Mosiman, who did an incredible job with the evocative black and white photography. I am so excited to get to see the film in that gigantic movie palace.
Christy Lemire, Susan Wloszczyna and I have “gotten together” to discuss films in the past for Rogerebert.com: Our first conversation was about Abel Ferrara’s Ms. 45, our second conversation was about Thelma and Louise turning 25.
Our latest is a conversation about the teen-melodrama-ice-skating-weepie-PHENOMENON known as Ice Castles. I can’t stop mentioning that one scene where Robbie Benson talks on the phone and he’s only wearing tighty whities. But there is a lot more to discuss.
Those buildings are reflecting the dying gleams of the sunset. With the moon soaring above. I just stood there staring for about 15 minutes. And it was freezing.
Been a while since I’ve done one of these. My life, my writing, I can’t keep up.
However: My commute into Manhattan is pretty extensive post-move, involving three separate trains, and door to door stuff now takes over an hour. At my old place, it was a 20-minute bus ride. I’ve read 2 books so far on the commute. I listen to music the whole time. It’s not lost time. I have this whole thing about lost time.
Here’s the latest Shuffle.
“The Judas Kiss” – Metallica. Macho and fast as hell.
“Blue Moon” – Big Star. It makes me cry. Alex Chilton makes me cry.
“Daybreaker” – ELO. High drama. The strings. The electric keyboards. WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN? Who cares.
“Down on the Street” – The Stooges. Pure sex.
“Soul Survivor” – The Rolling Stones. A very boy-heavy shuffle thus far, and I am completely happy with that.
“I’ve Just Seen a Face” – The Beatles. The harmonies on “Falling …” are so pleasing, as is the chugging-along rhythm.
“Now That We’re Dead” – Metallica. From their latest album, which I haven’t had time really to dig into yet, but I’m liking it a lot. Classic, really hard and heavy sound. They’re so fucking aggressive. I never get sick of them. I also love how their intros take up half the songs.
“Don’t Let the Whole World Know” – The Everly Brothers. Soaring satisfying harmonies.
“I Don’t Want To Go Home” – Pat McCurdy. An old friend. A legend in the Chicago/Milwaukee/St. Paul circuit. This song was recorded at a Milwaukee Summer Fest show. I performed there with him one riotous year. Riotous is an understatement.
“Dear Prudence” – this is from Julie Taymor’s Across the Universe, a movie I actually enjoyed. People seem annoyed by it. I like stuff that reaches for a brass ring, tries to do something different. Even if the attempt isn’t totally successful, it’s better than playing it safe.
“All Nightmare Long” – Metallica. “YOUR LUCK RUNS OUT-AHH!” Hetfield’s voice is indestructible. I always think of the moment in Some Kind of Monster where he takes out this old cassette tape with warm-up scales on it. He lost his voice during a tour for the black album and it freaked him out so much he went to an “opera guy” who gave him warm-up exercises. He still does them before every show.
“Judas” – Lady GaGa. Finally, a GIRL. It is difficult to believe that this song was in any way, shape, form, controversial.
“Steadfast, Loyal, and True” – Elvis Presley, from King Creole. He plays a busboy in a casino, and a mob-type boss (played by Walter Matthau) forces Elvis to sing. Because, of course. Elvis plays a high school kid, and he really dislikes how Matthau is treating the whore on his arm, but he’s intimidated, so he sings his school’s national anthem. It’s a lovely little scene with a lot going on. He always had a strange innocence to him.
“He Touched Me” – Elvis Presley. A great gospel song from Elvis. Not like the rousing Pentecostal raise-the-roof stuff, this is more of a church-y hymn. It’s a great vocalization from him. Listen to it. Listen to where his voice goes. How high it goes. How soft he gets. The breaths he takes before he lets it all out. Passionate.
“One Night in Dreamland” – Pat McCurdy. His lyrics are so good. A strange song. Vivid lyrics. Haunting. We went through a lot together. Lots of hilarity too.
“The Man With All the Toys” – The Beach Boys. This is hilarious.
“The Christian Life” – The Louvin Brothers. These guys are not messing around.
“I Need Your Love Tonight” (take 10) – Elvis Presley. This whole session was so productive, and we have all the out-takes. It was done over a couple of days when Elvis was on leave from basic training. Headed to Germany in September, where recording would cease for 2 years, RCA was trying to get as much recorded as possible, to be released while he was gone. This album (the 50,000,000 Elvis Fans Can’t Be Wrong album) is one of his best. All songs recorded live. Full band, Jordannaires, Elvis. It’s amazing how much they got done, and also how GOOD it is. Elvis in fine fine form, despite all of his troubles (leaving his career for the Army, plus his mother was very ill. She would die a couple of months later, a month before he left for Germany. 1958 was a big big year.)
“The Angels Rejoiced Last Night” – Look! It’s a Louvin Brothers cluster!
“Metal Militia” – Metallica. Another fast and furious one from their latest, one of the live tracks included from Rasputin Music in Berkeley. Why have I not seen them live?
“Goodnight Irene” – Jerry Lee Lewis and Merle Haggard. This was recorded informally around 10 years ago. They were in a hotel room, with a couple of other folks sitting around. It’s on Youtube. Run, don’t walk to watch this damn thing. It’s very simple, easy, comfortable. Jerry at the piano. A gentle jam from two legendary geezers.
“Crooked Little Man” – Trini Lopez. I can’t help it: listening to this makes me think of “Please, Mr. Kennedy”, the number recorded in the studio in Inside Llewyn Davis, with Oscar Isaacs, JT, and Adam Driver.
“Blood on the Leaves” – Kanye. The song is basically a duet with Billie Holliday. The man is not shy.
“Young Blood” – Jerry Lee Lewis. This is from his 1995 album. I love when he gets all burlesque-honky-tonk-piano-player. Which is most of the time, granted.
“The Pilgrim, Chapter 33” – Jerry Lee Lewis and Kris Kristofferson. This is from Last Man Standing (God, what an album title. It’s a nice middle finger, ain’t it. And even more true now that Chuck Berry is gone.)
“Let’s Twist Again” – Chubby Checker. Honestly, my Shuffle sounds like I was born in 1947.
“Johnny, Are You Queer?” – Josie Cotton. So offensive!
“Send It To Me” – The Rolling Stones. Reggae-ish. From Emotional Rescue. So good. There’s such a release in this song.
“Have I Told You Lately That I Love You” – Eddie Cochran. Swoon. With a swoopy soprano accompanying him, and the cowboy-song moseying-along rhythm.
“Heavenly Day” – Patty Griffin. What a big voice. Her Living With Ghosts is a masterpiece album. Fan for life because of that.
“Home” – Dolly Parton. A national treasure. “I’m so lonesome I could cry, just like ol’ Hank …”
“February Stars” – Foo Fighters. This is a live version from Skin and Bones. The song is an anthem. One of their best.
“Little Good-Byes” – SheDAISY. This is the only of theirs I have. I love this song. Witty lyrics.
“Trying to Get To You” – Wanda Jackson. Covering a song by her one-time beau, Elvis. Just saw her for the second time a couple months ago.
“Steamboat” – The Beach Boys. I find this captivating.
“She’s a Machine” – poor Elvis, doing the best he can with this bullshit song from Easy Come Easy Go. There are some excellent soundtrack songs, but the worst have his voice pushed so far to the foreground that you can barely hear the instruments. The Colonel thought this was a good sound because all that mattered was Elvis, right? It drove Elvis crazy.
“I Just Can’t Help Believin'” – Elvis, a 1970s live performance. Now that’s more like it.
“Tired Of You” – Foo Fighters. Fabulously PISSED OFF. Almost scary. “I woke up getting tired of you.”
“Unchained Melody” – Gene Vincent. He had such a beautiful voice. I love his “Over the Rainbow.”
“‘Til I Die” – The Beach Boys. Very sad song. Incredible arrangement, layered harmonies, staggered voices. Haunting.
“Viva Las Vegas” – Spinballs. This is from a fabulous tribute album with different artists playing Elvis covers called “A Psychobilly Tribute to Elvis.” I can’t recommend it highly enough! The music is really hard, hard hard rockabilly/heavy-metal/punk, and they’re singing … “Viva Las Vegas”?? LOVE.
“Big Boss Man” – Elvis Presley. So good. Jerry Reed on guitar. Jerry really ran those sessions. Elvis loved it. As my friend Felicia says all the time, “Game recognize game.”
“Dance Little Sister” – The Rolling Stones. Grinding rhythm underneath. Song run by the rhythm guitar, although Mick is in fine form.
“Curtains Down” – Eminem, 50 Cent and Dr. Dre. I love it when Eminem sings. A terrifying ending too!
“It Hurts Me” – Elvis Presley. God, I love his version of this. He sings it straight. It’s such a beautiful song. He doesn’t mess with it too much. You get to just be with his beautiful voice.
“Looking Back on Love” – Lenny Kravitz. Fan for life. From the first moment I heard “Fields of Joy” playing at a party. I had no idea who Lenny was. The song called to me, pierced through the night for me. WHAT WAS IT? I think I’ve written about that moment before. I was not doing well … at ALL … that night. Looking back on it, I know that I was sick, and having suicidal thoughts, but totally accepting it as the normal way of life. That song … that song cut through the fog. Sounds dramatic, sure. Because it WAS dramatic. I’ve been a fan ever since.
“Call Me Maybe” – the Glee cast version of the pop song that would not quit. That continues to be played on radios across the world. I prefer the Glee version. It’s a dumb song, really, but catchy. And I like the title. It’s funny.
“Take a Load Off Your Feet” – The Beach Boys. They’re perfect.
“Criminal” – Eminem. From the extraordinary Marshall Mathers LP. Classic Eminem.
“Toy Soldier” – Britney Spears. From Blackout, the album recorded during the year she went nuts. Recorded under the most extraordinarily terrible circumstances, when she was barely functioning, I think the album holds up pretty well! Some good songs. But still: the woman should have been in bed. Under a doctor’s care. Not propped up in front of a microphone.
“Tennessee Waltz” – Patti Page. One only has to listen to Sam Cooke’s version of this song to realize that Patti Page was a total dinosaur. Almost immediately upon arrival. But there are still lovely things in the old-fashioned and traditional.
“Peace of Mind” – Boston. My God, why.
“Jackson” – Jerry Lee Lewis, with his sister Linda Gail Lewis. Thrilling. When she sings, he screams along from the sidelines: “OH YEAH,” etc. You feel like you’re in the room with them. Oh, Jerry Lee. It’s going to be a sad sad day when you cross over. The old world slipping away.
“Van Lear Rose” – Loretta Lynn. So damn good. From the album Jack White produced.
“Surrender” – Elvis Presley. One of his most impressive vocalizations. You just wouldn’t have seen this coming, based on “Good Rockin’ Tonight”, etc. This is something ELSE. This is MORE he wants to show you. He didn’t want to stay put. Or repeat himself. He had these pipes. He wanted to use them.
“Kiss This Thing Goodbye” – Del Amitri. I never followed these guys, but this song got my attention. I think it was the banjo.
“Hosanna Filio David” – Sinéad O’Connor, from her double album (why, Sinéad, why is it double?) Theology. I stuck with her through this period. I’ll stick with her through anything. It’s been tough at times. She’s an artist.
“Momma” – ELO. Love you guys so much. Maybe this song is about 3 minutes too long though? Just a suggestion.
“You’re the One For Me” – Wanda Jackson. Adorable little song from 1959.
“Karma Police” – Radiohead. This song reminds me of the last time I fell in love. It did not end well, and unfortunately, Radiohead was slightly ruined for me due to being associated almost solely with that experience. That happens sometimes. Sorry, Radiohead!
“Housewife’s Prayer” – the awesome Pistol Annies. First line: “I’ve been thinking of setting my house on fire.”
“Mother” – Babes in Toyland. These girls were epic. Once upon a time, there were a bunch of FURIOUS women making music, SCREAMING in un-pretty voices, voices of punk rock, and their anger SOLD, and stuck a CHORD with people. They were not pre-canned auto-tuned sex-bots. Now listen, I love some of those sex-bots. I do. But when that’s the ONLY thing that is pushed forward and promoted, the message is horrifying. Sex-bots are fine, but I also need scary kilt-wearing rage-girls.
“All My Life” – The Foo Fighters. One of my favorite songs of theirs, and it’s very hard to choose. I love it when Dave Grohl screams because he screams on tune.
“Someday We’ll Look Back” – Merle Haggard. Voice smooth and low like silk, molasses. Also, I’m not sure, Merle, that we’re gonna look back on this and think it was fun. I have my doubts.
“Father, We’ve Somethin’ To Tell You” – the brothers in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. This is why I am devoted to Shuffle. Because when would I ever choose to listen to this song? But when it shows up, I am happy to listen. Also, going from Merle to the country-western bullshit that is this song has a symmetry that is random and pleasing.
“Hello Mary Lou” – Ricky Nelson. Never gets old. And I wasn’t alive when this damn thing got radio play. As a matter of fact, I think I always thought that this was an original song by Queen. The fact that Freddie Mercury loved it so much speaks volumes.
“Because of Love” – Elvis Presley. From Girls! Girls! Girls! I want to hug him for investing in this shit. And he does. And he redeems the song. Single-handedly. Easily.
“The Wall” – Johnny Cash. One of the most haunting – and thrilling – tracks from the concert at Folsom Prison. You can hear a pin drop in that rough rough room.
“The Race Is One” – Waylon Jennings. I was wondering where he was.
“Milky White Way” – The Coleman Brothers. One of my favorite gospel tunes. Elvis does a beautiful version. It’s a Coleman Brothers original.
“Motherfucker” – Robbie Williams. From his latest album, which is as good as I hoped. He’s always good. Man knows how to write and then SELL an anthem like this one.
“The Hunter’s Wife” – The Pistol Annies. From the arsonist housewife to the bummed-out lonely hunter’s wife … the Pistol Annies have pretty ambiguous feelings about marriage.
“Forget Me (Next Time I’m Around)” – Carl Perkins. From 1963. 10 years after he hit. There’s a country swooning rhythm, in the bass line for sure, and in his voice. There’s some Roy Orbison-like things he does with his voice here. It’s like a song played in an old-timey dance hall.
“You Can Bring Your Dog” – Tori Amos. I was so into her from Little Earthquakes that she dominated my listening during my vivid first year in Chicago, when I had almost zero possessions, and a mattress on the floor, and a crazy-wild social life. (Just wrote about that whole time here.) I only had a couple of cassette tapes. Little Earthquakes was one of them. (Others I remember: Annie Lennox’s Diva. Madonna’s Dick Tracy soundtrack. The B-52’s – the one with “Love Shack” on it.) My first couple of months in Chicago, she played Park West (this was right before the album came out, if I recall it right. She was by herself onstage with the piano.) I ripped a picture of Tori out of a magazine and taped it on my bare-dented white cupboards. That was the only decoration I had in that first apartment. I wanted to travel LIGHT. So Tori always makes me think of that time. I have had an up and down relationship with her ever since. She drives me crazy. I love her. I roll my eyes at her. But Little Earthquakes came into my life at the right time.
“One Day” – Bleu. May be my favorite contemporary songwriter. (Brendan Benson too.) I saw Bleu in November, 2012. I was in a trance of suicidal thoughts during that month. I was getting tired fighting it off. I saw him – by myself – in the middle of that period. I look back and am amazed I pulled myself together enough to write that piece. I’m lucky I’m alive.
“Gives You Hell” – The All-American Rejects. One of my favorite examples of an awesome sub-genre of songs, what I call The Bad Sport Breakup Song. Once I realized I didn’t have to be a good sport when some man did me wrong, I was a happier woman. I love the video for this, too, when a huge group stands on the front lawn of that bitch’s yard, yelling the lyrics through megaphones. YESSS.
“Brain Stew” – Green Day. This is the first time my ears pricked up and I thought: “Hey. Who is THAT.”
“Love and Happiness” – Al Green. What a GROOVE.
“Oh!” – Eric Hutchinson. This is the cute little singer-songwriter with a tiny following who woke up one day to find one of his songs #1 on iTunes because Perez Hilton (Jeez, member him?) had linked to him. My sister Siobhan – who was already a fan because she always has her ear to the ground for amazing singer-songwriters – was already going to see him that week at The Knitting Factory. The place was PACKED, and Hutchinson was excited, but still kind of freaked out. Like, 5 days before, maybe 100 people had bought tickets. Now there was a line down the block. I love him.
“Up Against The Bauchalawns” – The Chieftains. The soundtrack of my childhood.
“Steamroller Blues” – Elvis Presley. This is from a recent album, where some of Elvis’ songs are now accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic. It’s fun. This is not my favorite Elvis vocal, though. It seems like a done deal, but he’s somehow … once removed from it.
“Baby Jane” – Mitch Ryder. That bass-line.
“Early Morning Rock” – The Deltones. This is from 1958. I find the post-Elvis-wave of music fascinating. Those pouring into the Grand Canyon he left behind him. The mainstream-ing is so complete. There’s no danger anymore.
“Ooh Ooh Baby” – Britney Spears. Another track from Blackout. Britney, you should be in bed. But still, you sound great.
“Rehab” – Amy Winehouse. A classic. I miss her.
“You Guessed It” – OG Maco. So amazing. Great vocal performance, great acting. As out there, in its way, as Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
“Just Like a Woman” – Nina Simone. Glorious and sad. A celebration, a song of grief and acknowledgement, recognition, pain. And her piano playing is so beautiful and eloquent. The song has such an incredible build.
“Recharge and Revolt” – The Raveonettes. I’m pretty sure this is a track I first heard when I saw American Honey. (That movie’s soundtrack was one of the best last year. Or, really, any year. The music was a huge part of the texture of that film.)
“Thanks” – Bing Crosby. Bing said: “Frank Sinatra is a singer that comes along once in a lifetime. But why did he have to come along in mine?”
“Blitzkrieg” – Metallica covering Blitzkrieg, the song by Blitzkrieg. You got that? The whole thing is hypomanic, just like I like it.
“A Little Bitty Tear” – Burl Ives. Sheila, what the hell.
“Changing Tracks” – Wishbone Ash. So many songs on here I have no memory of buying. Did I hear this on Supernatural? There’s a reference to a crossroads and the Devil, and their music people have unearthed every song ever written that has to do with Demons. This is their only track I have. I’m digging it. More the sound of the band/instruments than the lead singer’s voice.
“Forever Texas” – superstar Robbie Williams. Early in his solo career. Which nobody thought would last past one or two albums. Who has the last laugh now? He’s the best thing EVA.
“Thunder Kiss ’65” – White Zombie. Must be played loud.
“The Way You Look Tonight” – Doris Day. I’m with Brian May. She’s a perfect singer and vocal stylist.
“Weed Instead of Roses” – Ashley Monroe. The lyrics are hilarious and sexy. “Give me weed instead of roses, get me whiskey ‘stead of wine.” “Every puff, every shot, you’re lookin’ better all the time.” hahahaha This is a desperate woman.
“L-O-V-E-V-I-L-L-E” – Carl Perkins. This is from 1960, and you can start to hear the sounds of the 60s coming into this pioneer’s sound (saxophones, mainly). The background singers. That twanging-twisting lead guitar connects it all to the earth.
“Murder By Numbers” – The Police. God, this album took over the world. I was there. You could not escape.
“Do I Move You” – Nina Simone. The answer is yes. Always.
“’til you” – Alanis Morissette. She drives me crazy. But I also love her! It’s so hard!! This is a very pretty song.
“Calling Sarah” – from the awesome and sadly short-lived band Jellyfish. Was hugely into them while they were around. I still am.
“Boy Blue” – ELO. Sometimes I have no idea what they are doing. And it doesn’t matter.
“My Heart Isn’t In It” – Mike Viola. He’s so amazing. If you’re not familiar with his stuff, do yourself a favor. His band was The Candybutchers. They are an O’Malley obsession. My sister got me into him. (And she ended up opening for Mike Viola one magical night. Huge!!) Viola wrote the songs for That Thing You Do (and then got stiffed on getting credit for it.) He then wrote the songs for Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, and got proper credit. His solo career has been amazing too. Prolific. He’s a fantastic songwriter.
“Symphony No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Op. 55 “Eroica”: II. Marcia Funebre: Adagio Assai” – Beethoven. The London Symphony. So mournful and thoughtful. H.L. Mencken referenced the Eroica all the time in his writings. He wrote: “The older I grow, the more I am convinced that the most portentous phenomenon in the whole history of music was the first public performance of the Eroica on April 7, 1805.” Excerpt from one of Mencken’s essays about Beethoven.
“A Man For All Seasons” – Robbie Williams. Who knows why someone hits a sweet spot? He hits mine. He’s the perfect combination of hot modern pop star and old-fashioned swing-band crooner. He’s not IRONIC about his love of the old classics. He loves them sincerely. I’m not sure anyone could have seen that one coming from how he started out. And he’s not Michael Buble, who has attached himself to the Nostalgic Train solely. Robbie does more. Wants to do more. I adore him.
“Four Green Fields” – The Clancy Brothers. Peak Irish sentimentality.
“Tourette’s” – Nirvana. From In Utero. Maybe even a better album than Never Mind.
“My Little Shirtwaist Fire” – Rasputina. A haunting tribute to the victims of the Shirtwaist disaster. I post this song every year on March 25. Speaking of which …
“Lawdy Miss Clawdy” – Little Richard, raising the ROOF!!
“Strange Movies” – The Troggs. I love these guys so much. Every song is about sex. Wanting it. Having it. Missing it. Wanting more. Because honestly what else is there to talk about?
“Give It To Me (All Your Love)” – The Troggs. Wow. A cluster. And look at the song title. Exhibit A of the point I made in the last entry.
“Tell Me What You See” – The Beatles. I love how their melodies often mask the sometimes-scary quality of their lyrics. Like, if you start to listen to what they are SAYING, the images that come are startling. This is an inner monologue of a desperate man. Maybe even a stalker. Good stuff.
“Where Were You?” – Jonatha Brooke. I love this song. I bought the album based on this song alone, but I didn’t care for the rest of it. The album was so over-produced: every song goes on way too long, every song because a glorified jam session. It’s a bit much for a simple singer-songwriter. Still: this is a terrific song.
“1000 Umbrellas” – XTC. I have such a personal memory attached to this song that I am unable to listen to it without seeing the whole scene in front of me. It involves the Civic Opera House and the Chicago River and the heat wave of 1995.
“The Night Hank Williams Came to Town” – This is Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings. Nothing can be better.
“Trying to Get To You” – Elvis, recorded in 1956. He’s so youthful, so hopeful and joyous. One of my favorites recorded that tumultuous year. Then, of course, a little bit over 10 years later, he performed it live in the “sit-down session” section of his 1968 comeback special. Now a grown adult man, he brought to it a ferocity of intent and need – maybe a blend of his need as a performer to reassert his power and dominance as well as the need in the lyrics of the lover trying to get to his woman – it’s one of the most incredible live performances I’ve ever seen.
“The Riviera” – from the Broadway cast recording of The Boyfriend. I saw a local production of this when I was 10 or 11 and it had a huge effect on me. It fed into my obsession with the 1920s (Bugsy Malone was the main genesis of that obsession), but it also hit a couple of my sweet spots, including any story taking place in a girls’ boarding school setting. I was captivated.
“O Holy Night” – Straight No Chaser. An a capella group. Their arrangements are stunning.
“Skyfall” – Adele. High melodrama.
“Drift Away” – Bob Stillman and Christine Ebersole in the Broadway musical Grey Gardens. The show had some problems and was definitely made for those who were already obsessed with the Maysles’ documentary (and if you’re not, why not??), but the music was wonderful and Ebersole gave one of those performances where you think AS it’s happening: “I am so glad that I am going to be able to say I saw this.”
“Back in the U.S.A.” – Chuck Berry. I’m so glad in the wake of his death that his lyrics are also getting their due. A poet. A storyteller. Intricate and specific.
“Got to Know the Woman” – The Beach Boys. I swear this was a coincidence that Berry and The Beach Boys show up back to back. Sorry, boys!
“Why I Lie” – Liz Phair. My GIRL. My guiding saint. I was in from the second she appeared. From the first moment of 6’1″, the first track on Exile in Guyville, I was in. She was writing about my life. My boyfriends and fuck-buddies. A social life before social media. The whole Gen-X social THING. She also emerged from Chicago, and I was there when she was there, and so it all felt looped together. This was a voice, saying something very specific about where I was at. Where many of us were at. I know a lot of people were like, “OhmyGODZ she’s SELLING OUT” with her later albums. Yes, because it’s better to keep repeating yourself and never change or grow. Spoken like a true Salieri. I LOVE some of her “sellout” stuff. She’s a great songwriter.
“Insanity (The Sanest Thing You’ve Got)” – The Nines. I do not know where this came from, where I heard it, what prompted me to buy it. But I like it. It’s clearly Queen-inspired, it’s Jellyfish-Lite, a pale imitation, but it still has a toe-tapping energy thing going on.
“She Knows How” – The Box Tops. She sure does. This is so FUNKY.
“33” – Sinéad O’Connor, from her double-album Theology which is pretty tiresome.
“Turn On a Dream” – The Box Tops. If you haven’t read Robert Gordon’s It Came From Memphis, I highly recommend it. Wonderful book about the music scene in Memphis, and how it developed in the 20th century. Elvis was only a small part of Memphis’ contribution to culture, and there is so much more to discover, so much “came from Memphis.” Alex Chilton, of course, plays an enormous role, and it’s fascinating to follow him from a teenager in his years in The Box Tops through the Big Star years and beyond. The whole story is told in full. Has there been an entire book written about Chilton? There should be.
“Like You” – Evanescence. I lost track of them at some point. I really liked them. Her, especially.
“Gotta Let You Go” – Joe Hill Louis. Speaking of “it came from Memphis” … Recorded at Sun Records. It’s hot as hell. And modern. With that distortion in the sound, the grinding guttural guitar underneath … He riffs and riffs and riffs. It takes a while for the song to even start. It feels fresh and spontaneous. You are in the room when this recorded. This was the moment. This was the performance captured. That’s the magic of the tracks at Sun, and what Sam Phillips was interested in.
“Mean To Me” – Doris Day. She sings this in Love Me or Leave Me, a great film with two tour de force performances, one from Day, one from James Cagney.
“Dumb” – Nirvana. From their iconic Unplugged concert on MTV. I watched in real-time. It was haunting.
“The Darkest Midnight” – Sinéad O’Connor singing with The Monks of Glenstal Abbey. I have a couple of albums from said Monks, and they are marvelous. They require a downshift in speed, a carving out of a meditative space from which to receive the song. It’s a good practice, especially for a speed-demon like myself.
“Two Silhouettes” – Del Shannon. I love him so much.
“She Said She Said” – The Beatles. “She’s making me feel like I’ve never been born.” What an amazing line. Scary.
“I Ain’t Movin'” – Des’ree. She’s lovely. This is a wonderful album.
“I’ll Never Let You Go (Boo Hoo Hoo Hoo)” – Little Richard. He and Jerry Lee Lewis. Truly the last ones standing now. Anyone else I’m missing?
“Stranded In the Jungle” – The Cadets. Sheila. Why?
“Smoke on the Water” – Deep Water. Without that opening chord progression, would the song be considered a classic? I’ll answer that. No. It wouldn’t. It’s that hook. That’s the song.
“Rockin’ Chair” – The Band. From “the brown album.” So much ink has been spilled about The Band that I know whatever I feel like saying is not in any way original. But I listen to this song, and it’s harmonica, and the harmonies, the rhythms … it’s not explicitly melancholy, but I am filled with a sense of almost beautiful luxurious loss and sadness when I listen. This is true of most of their songs.
“Lay Your Shine On Me” – The Box Tops. Grooooooovy.
“Roi” – The Breeders. This song. This album. This band. My God.
“Starfish and Coffee” – Prince. One of my favorite Prince tracks. I lost my virginity to a Prince song. I am a cliche. Not this song, though, because that would be totally weird.
“Leave My Kitten Alone” – The Beatles. Rockin’.
“Dead!” – My Chemical Romance. They were “in” for about 5 seconds. I like this album, although they seem incredibly hypomanic. I want to prescribe them the meds I’m on.
“Moratorium” – Alanis Morissette. “I declare a respite from the toils of liaison.” Oh, Alanis. Relax.
“Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In)” – Kenny Rogers. Forever more, I will think of The Big Lebowski when I hear this song, and I’m sure I’m not alone.
“Selfish” – Britney Spears. Not exactly peak Brit-Brit, but very enjoyable nonetheless. Her songs all have the same message: “I am wild and I am going to BLOW YOUR MIND.”
“Toy Soldier” – Britney Spears. This is on my workout mix. Peak Brit-Brit. Again from Blackout, an album I actually felt guilty about buying.
“Bones” – The Killers. This song moves. It’s kind of thrilling. I love his voice. Great lead singer voice.
“Serve the Servants” – Nirvana. Brilliant. Blistering. “Teenage angst has paid off well.”
“Pitkin County Turnaround” – Steve Martin. His banjo album! J’adore!
“If I Get Locked Up” – Eminem and Dr. Dre. Eminem’s internal rhymes are dazzling. This is a fast and ranting monologue. Same topics as usual, the same things that obsess him. Violins in the riffs underneath him. Dre playing support staff.
“Give Me the Right” – Wanda Jackson. Covering her one-time boyfriend, Elvis on her album I Remember Elvis. Fantastic blues guitar, wandering around on the side, commenting on the main action, sex-ing it all up.
“I Pity the Fool” – Bobby Blue Bland. Man, so do I, Bobby.
“Send Me the Pillow You Dream On” – Dean Martin. A perfect performer. That’s all. There was nothing – NOTHING – wrong with him.
“Spirit of America” – The Beach Boys. Piercingly sweet. But with that sadness too, in the harmonies, the sadness in the sweetness.
“Lonesome Town” – Ricky Nelson. Such a huge star. Nearly forgotten now. I mean, not by people who KNOW, and certainly not by the guy flipping out at the James Burton show Charlie and I went to when they played some Nelson songs … but it’s one of those careers that was so of a time and of a place. But in his heyday, he was IT. He’s a beautiful singer.
“Don’t Want to Hear It Anymore” – Dusty Springfield. From Dusty in Memphis, a phenomenal album beginning to end.
“Let’s Do It” – Joan Jett and Paul Westerberg. I’m just grateful that this partnering happened. And that they sang THIS song.
“Should Have Left You” – Leftover Cuties. They’re my latest obsession. I love everything they do.
“Unhappily Married” – The Pistol Annies. Hilarious. But bleak too. “Can’t buy high heels on nickels and dimes.”
“Ray of Light” – Madonna. This was the last Madonna album I was really “all in” for. There’s a true transcendent energy here, an energy reflected in the lyrics, the theme of the song present in the sound.
“Dear Boy” – from the great tribute to the songwriting of Paul McCartney. Artists involved: Tim Christensen, Tracy Bonham & Mike Viola. Favorites, all. Check it out!
“Blue Days, Black Nights” – Buddy Holly. The finger-picking of the guitar in the background – echoing Scotty Moore’s unique style – is beautiful.
“Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” – Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis Presley messing around at Sun Records, December 1956 (the so-called Million Dollar Quartet imprompu session). They’re all just riffing and talking and singing and laughing hysterically at Chuck Berry’s fabulous lyrics. Pure appreciation.
“We Gonna Hold On” – George Jones and Tammy Wynette. I mean, come ON.
“Space Oddity” – David Bowie. I miss him. Irreplaceable.
“Our Car Club” – The Beach Boys. The saxophone is so groovy.
“Terrifying” – The Monkees. From their new album – !!! – which is fantastic.
“Oh! Darling” – The Beatles. If you and I ever go out and do karaoke together, you will hear me perform this song. I can guaran-damn-tee it.
“Crazy Mixed Up World” – the great Faye Adams, with one of the the most distinctive vibratos I’ve ever heard.
“Can’t Fight This Feeling” – REO Speedwagon. Sheila. WHY.
“Venus in Furs” – The Velvet Underground & Nico. So brilliant.
“Big Train From Memphis” – I almost can’t take this. It’s Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins. From their big Class of ’55 tour/album onslaught. It’s too much. It’s too much.
First, we have Liam Neeson jumping over a fence in Taken 3, with a total of 15 cuts in a moment that lasts seconds. (I hope the link to this Tweet works. I could not track down the Gif anywhere else although it made the rounds a bit last year, with everyone making fun of the number of cuts.)
I guess, okay, sure, that’s a way to go with it. Do all those cuts make the scene better? Make the moment more exciting? I find such film-making lazy to the point of insulting, revealing a total lack of trust in the moment, the audience, the actor, the scenario … I mean, literally every single element. What this looks like to me is the director/editor/producer shouting in my ear (with insecurity not excitement): “Oooh. This looks SUPER COOL. Doesn’t it?? You don’t even have time to BREATHE!” No shit, and I’m bored out of my mind and unimpressed. If you HOLD a moment longer than half a second, then your audience will get bored and check their phones, apparently. Maybe that’s true? But it’s not true for me, and when someone like me – who has a healthy attention span – is forced to watch something like that, my brain goes into a flat-line of boredom at the pure unreality. Besides: Liam Neeson is a fine and impressive physical actor. I want to see him jump over that fence all on his own. You know he can do it. It would look amazing!
And now compare: an identical scene. Jensen Ackles jumping over an identical fence in Supernatural. One shot. No cuts. Just him and his physical brilliance, up to and including twisting his body around backwards while in mid-air.
That second moment is far more thrilling and satisfying. It grounds us in reality because we can see that that is an actual human man actually climbing up that fence, actually doing that stunt. Your brain also doesn’t fuzz to a blank trying to comprehend the action broken up into 15 separate teensy chunks.
If I were teaching a film-class to young directors, I’d show them both these clips. And ask them what they see. And ask them to describe the effect both had on them. I’d try not to ask leading questions. Just show the two clips. And let the conversation start. It would be very interesting, I think.
Two pieces I want to link to, written by people I know, yes, no shame in that, I know smart people!
1. Glenn Kenny writes a beautiful and smart essay on Berry for Rogerebert.com – Kenny really knows his music, is a musician himself, and it’s great stuff. His essay also should put a stop to any more glib “Wasn’t that a great tribute to Berry in Back to the Future??” comments (there was a lot of that going around when the news broke, and it made my teeth itch. Thank you, Glenn, for putting down in no uncertain terms what was so WRONG about that scene, and so annoying about that being the first response of so many.)
He synthesized an entire sensibility and also wrote some of the greatest American short-stories-in-song that have ever been sung. On Twitter, the critic Jody Rosen wrote of “Johnny B. Goode”: “Try to find a better American story, more pithily told.” “There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood/Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode/Who never ever learned to read or write so well/but he could play a guitar just like a ringing a bell.” Anybody can say of someone, “He never learned to read or write.” A genius says “never ever learned to read or write so well.”
2. Bill Janovitz, of Buffalo Tom, also weighs in. (Buffalo Tom played at my cousin Mike’s wedding, and Mike wrote the liner notes to a recent Buffalo Tom CD, posted on my site with their permission. Janovitz also wrote a wonderful book about The Rolling Stones, which you all should read –Rocks Off: 50 Tracks That Tell the Story of the Rolling Stones). Janovitz wrote a great tribute for The Observer about Berry, giving terrific in-depth background to the man’s journey, his musical genius, and the context from which he sprung. Janovitz describes an interaction he had with Keith Richards, where the two of them discuss Berry’s “Memphis Tennessee” that made me choke up.
It spills out like one of Jack Kerouac’s scrolls. Wordy, yet with a seemingly effortless flow that belies the craft behind it, the lyric is a prototype, with the sort of cadence that can be heard from the Beach Boys’ appropriation of Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen” for the comparatively anodyne “Surfing USA,” through Bob Dylan’s raging “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and beyond into the punk rock and rap of the 1970s.
The Voyager spacecraft was launched in 1977 with many objects on board, a floating time capsule, and … maybe … a message to whomever might find it on the other end, light-years away. Included was the “Voyager Golden Record,” a disc containing music from all around the world. (You can see the sort of stuff included on the record.) It was meant to be a: “Hello, there. Here is who we are.” Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” was on that record.
On Saturday Night Live in 1977, Steve Martin imagined what the alien response would be to all the material we sent them.
“Memphis, Tennessee:” This is how you write a song. DAMN. There are multiple characters. An uncle who writes stuff on the wall. A mother who caused problems. There’s a location mentioned so exact you could locate it with GPS. There’s urgency in the voice telling the story. In other words – like in a novel – the voice has a need and a want. You can FEEL it. And THEN. late in the song, comes the Big Reveal. I don’t know how old I was the first time I heard this song but I was young. 9 or 10 years old. And I still remember the sensation when he reveals who Marie is. It was mind-blowing. I had to re-adjust everything I knew based on the new information. It still gets to me, to be honest.
This is a great live performance of one of my favorite Chuck Berry songs. I especially love how he deals with the microphone falling. He just incorporates it. Doesn’t miss a beat.
I don’t think I could be friends with you – at least not true friends, close friends – if you sat in the audience at this performance and didn’t sing along. Or got offended. Or didn’t laugh. I’d continue to be polite to you if you didn’t laugh or if you got offended, but I would know that we just were not the same kind of people and it wouldn’t be any use trying any further than that. Listen to how he gets this whole crowd singing those lyrics. It makes me so happy.
Chuck Berry and Keith Richards, “Little Queenie.” Maestro-macho-guitar showmen.
Letter from Carl Sagan to Chuck Berry:
Chuck Berry on the legendary T.A.M.I. Show.
“Johnny B. Goode” has been so absorbed into the culture that it basically IS our culture. It feels like nobody could have written it. It feels like one of those traditional folk songs, author unknown. But someone actually wrote that song, came up with the images (again, like in “Memphis, Tennessee” filled with novelistic details). It is the most American of American stories.
Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood,
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could play a guitar just like a ringing a bell.
Go Go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Or sit beneath the tree by the railroad track.
Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade,
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made.
The people passing by, they would stop and say,
“Oh, my, but that little country boy could play!”
Go Go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
His mother told him, “Someday you will be a man,
And you will be the leader of a big old band.
Many people coming from miles around
To hear you play your music when the sun go down.
Maybe someday your name will be in lights
Saying ‘Johnny B. Goode tonight’.”
, I highly recommend it. Wonderful book about the music scene in Memphis, and how it developed in the 20th century. Elvis was only a small part of Memphis’ contribution to culture, and there is so much more to discover, so much “came from Memphis.” Alex Chilton, of course, plays an enormous role, and it’s fascinating to follow him from a teenager in his years in The Box Tops through the Big Star years and beyond. The whole story is told in full. Has there been an entire book written about Chilton? There should be. 
, you must. Whole chapter on Randy Newman.
). Janovitz 
