Playlist #230

Happy Monday, folks. I’ve been a bit down the past few days, which may or may not have affected my choice in music. Let’s take a look at the playlist and see.

  1. Glen Campbell, “Wichita Lineman”: Heard this song last night and it made me cry.
  2. Counting Crows, “Holiday in Spain”: The saddest song about being on holiday in Spain I’ve ever heard. I would assume being on holiday in Spain is a joyous occasion, not one so somber.
  3. Genesis, “No Reply At All”: One of the most upbeat songs about getting ghosted I’ve ever heard.
  4. case/lang/veirs, “Atomic Number”: How can a song ostensibly about the periodic table feel so sad? There’s just so much longing and loss in this song that I can’t help but love it.
  5. The National, “Afraid Of Everyone”: “You’re an oasis, darling, in my soul soul soul soul” on repeat in my brain for the rest of the day.
  6. Van Morrison, “Not Supposed To Break Down”: A Van cast off that’s better than most bands’ best song.
  7. Spoon, “Everything Hits At Once”: It sure does, It sure does.
  8. Hem, “The Part Where You Let Go”: I love this band. They’re one of my go-tos when I’m feeling down. Very cinematic and widescreen in the best possible ways.
  9. Wilco, “Handshake Drugs”: Four-chord songs are fun to play sometimes. I love playing this one.
  10. The Rolling Stones, “19th Nervous Breakdown”: I dunno if it’s the nineteenth one or not, but I do feel like I narrowly avoided a breakdown last night. Why’s the world so overwhelming right now?

Playlist #220

Happy Monday, folks. It’s a stormy one here in Northern Virginia, where we’ve reached the part of the summer when it rains most every afternoon for an hour or so. In unrelated news, I’ve received the edits for Book 8 back from my editor, so I’ll probably sit down sometime in the next couple of weeks and go through those and make the changes so it reads like something that wasn’t written by an unhinged lunatic with a comma addiction. Until then, here’s a playlist.

  1. Andrew Bird, “Frogs Singing”: A quintessential summer song. It always makes me think of a time I was visiting with my great-grandparents and they took me to a church revival at a little country church out in the middle of nowhere, eastern Oklahoma. The place was in a swamp, essentially, and all you could hear were the frogs singing and the cicadas buzzing. That sound was and remains summer to me.
  2. Case/Lang/Veirs, “Atomic Number”: Why does this song always make me feel so sad? Am I just trained to hear Neko Case’s voice and immediately feel like all the good has been sucked out of the universe and right into her vocal chords?
  3. Frank Turner, “Get Better”: A great shout-along song for when the world’s got you down and you feel like, fuck it, I can actually handle everything you’re gonna throw at me.
  4. Josh Ritter, “Getting Ready to Get Down”: If you see me dancing to this song in the car, feel free to dance along. It’s very danceable.
  5. Greg Feldon, “Incoming”: There’s no reason to give up. There’s no reason to give in. Keep your head up and keep fighting. The world will improve.
  6. Tracy Chapman, “Fast Car”: The through line from this song to the work of Bruce Springsteen around Darkness on the Edge of Town and The River is just a straight line. I’m not saying Tracy Chapman is the lesbian Bruce Springsteen, but I’m not not saying that, either.
  7. Kris Orlowski, “Go”: There are only a couple of great songs about lighthouses out there in the world. This is one of them, especially the version sung by Glen Phillips.
  8. Van Morrison, “Wild Night”: A song about getting kitted out and going out on the town, as only a young person in their early to mid-twenties could do. I’m too old for that now, I think, but damn if this song doesn’t make me want to give it a try.
  9. James McMurtry, “Just Us Kids”: And then there’s this song to bring me back down to reality and remind me that, no, I’m in my 40s and I have responsibilities, but hey, maybe I can still have some fun if I really put myself out there.
  10. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, “Spike (Live)”: And then there’s this reminder that sometimes when you put yourself out there, you go into a bar and get made fun of so bad by a bunch of old curmudgeons that you just walk out, hitch a ride on the nearest interstate, and never come back ever again. Life’s funny that way.