Happy Monday, folks. It’s the end of the first quarter here in Northern Virginia, but rather than attending my school’s professional day I’m at home taking a mental health day. Part of that involves giving y’all a new playlist, so here ya go.
- The Palms, “Maybe”: If I were the type of person to drive along the coast at midnight with the top down and the music cranked up, this would probably be the song I’d have on blast. Well, this, or America’s “Ventura Highway.”
- Drive-By Truckers, “Danko/Manuel”: Songs about The Band are uniformly pretty good, I’ve discovered.
- Counting Crows, “If I Could Give All My Love (Richard Manuel Is Dead)”: Honestly, though, if I had a nickel for every song about the death of Richard Manuel, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it is weird that it happened twice.
- John Lee Hooker, “Boom Boom”: If I had a voice like John Lee Hooker, I would sing the damn phone book and it would sound awesome.
- Eric Clapton, “Sign Language”: If you ever want to hear Eric Clapton and Bob Dylan duet and sing about eating a sandwich, have I got a song for you.
- Toad the Wet Sprocket, “Chile”: I have always loved this song. It’s dark and mysterious and even after listening to it for almost 30 years, I still have no idea what it’s about. I love that.
- Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle”: I love that this song is basically the pop-punk version of George Harrison’s “All Things Must Pass.”
- Mike Doughty, “Fort Hood”: “My new song is done.” “That’s great. What’s it like?” “Well, y’know, usual stuff in the verse, but then the chorus is just ‘Let the Sunshine In.'” “Great. Let’s record it.”
- Southern Culture on the Skids, “Voodoo Cadillac Blues”: It’s weird and grungy and feels slightly slimy in the best way possible. Smells like diesel smoke and Marlboro Reds and beer piss in the best way possible.
- Leo Sayer, “More Than I Can Say”: It’s 70s schmaltz, but I really like it. It’s a nice song. I sometimes listen to nice songs.
