Playlist #262

Happy Monday, and May the 4th be with you! And all my Lutheran friends say, “And also with you.” Here’s a playlist.

  1. Pat McGee Band, “Bookends”: A student introduced me to this band last week. Pretty solid singer-songwriter stuff.
  2. Nocturnne, “Proximity”: A DIY singer-songwriter (I have a thing for that style) writing exactly what you think a 20-something singer-songwriter would write. It’s not bad, but I’m not sure it’s really speaking to me.
  3. Old 97s, “Timebomb”: A ripsnorter of a song, it explodes out of the gate and blew little grad school Charlie’s mind back in the early 2000s. It remains awesome.
  4. Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes, “Man On Fire”: Let us cast our minds back to the far-flung year 2012, when Stomp-Clap-Hey! ruled the airwaves and a band with such an unwieldy name could come to prominence. And then let’s never speak of it again.
  5. The Elected, “It Was Love”: This song (and this band more in general) gives me hope that there’s an audience out there for someone whose voice is weak like mine.
  6. Elton John, “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me”: Elton John just makes you feel things sometimes, y’know?
  7. Ram Jam, “Black Betty”: Bam-ba-lam.
  8. Molly Hatchet, “Flirtin’ With Disaster”: Somehow this turned into a Southern Rock playlist without me even trying. But if you don’t find yourself doing 90 down the highway with this song blasting out the windows, there’s something wrong with you and you might be clinically dead.
  9. Marshall Tucker Band, “Can’t You See”: If there is a sadder Southern Rock song out there, I don’t know it, because most rock songs don’t encourage you to “crawl inside and die” in a hole in the wall or jump off the tallest mountain in Georgia (a state totally known for its tall mountains).
  10. The Dandy Warhols, “Minnesoter”: My favorite song about being someone from Minnesota? I’m not sure that’s actually what it’s about. I’m not sure the guy who wrote it is entirely sure what it’s about.

Playlist #103

Happy Monday. We’re in the 4th quarter of school out here in Northern Virginia now. The home stretch. Here’s some songs to get you through the week, at least.

  1. Adeem the Artist, “Books & Records”: A song about leveraging the things you love just to survive and the hope that you’ll be able to recover them someday. It’s so sad and heartbreaking and hopeful that I just can’t help but love it.
  2. Dion, “Runaround Sue”: The song itself is pretty good, yeah, but it’s the vocalizations at the beginning and end that really get me on this one.
  3. Edie Brickell & New Bohemians, “What I Am”: Someday, I’m going to put together enough songs for a philosophy playlist. This will be the first song on that playlist.
  4. The Elected, “I’ll Be Your Man”: Did you want a sad some about trying to win someone’s heart? Because here’s a sad song about trying to win someone’s heart.
  5. The Mountain Goats, “Woke Up New”: If you really want to twist the knife in your own guts, you listen to the Mountain Goats. Because that’s all those guys do.
  6. Roy Orbison, “Workin’ For The Man”: “Well, I’m pickin’ ’em up and I’m layin’ ’em down/I believe he’s gonna work me into the ground” is just a banger of a couplet.
  7. Robert Plant & Allison Krauss, “Killing The Blues”: What did we do to deserve not one, but two whole albums of these two duetting? What dark pact did we make? What price will we have to pay on down the road?
  8. Paul McCartney, “Ballroom Dancing”: I had the album this song is from, Give My Regards to Broad Street, on a tape that my uncle (I think) made for my dad back in the 80s. Damn near wore that thing out. Kinda giggle at the line “Big B.D.” now (it stands for “Ballroom Dancing,” FYI).
  9. The Flaming Lips, “Vein Of Stars”: “Who knows, maybe there isn’t/A vein of stars calling out my name.” Wayne Coyne just knows how to write a good song, eh?
  10. Fleetwood Mac, “Storms”: I’ve come to appreciate the album Tusk over the past couple of years.

Playlist #63 – Doomed Love

I am returned to the East from my vacation! 5800 miles later and (mostly) none the worse for wear. I am still doing music over on Patreon, where I’ll be unveiling July’s song of the month shortly. Today’s playlist comes courtesy of my brother, Clif, who not only suggested the theme but most of the songs on the list. Let’s jump in!

  1. Bruce Springsteen, “Loose Ends”: Sure, a lot of Springsteen’s songs feature characters stuck in relationships that seem doomed to end in abject failure, but only this one likens the relationship to a tightening noose.
  2. Mo Kenney, “Ahead of Myself”: I don’t know who hurt you, Mo, but you should stay away from them for your own good.
  3. The Fratellis, “For the Girl”: For such an upbeat, poppy band, they sure can turn in a downer of a song.
  4. Goodnight, Texas, “Dearest Sarah”: Based on an actual soldier’s letter to his wife back home, telling her that he felt he was going to die in an upcoming battle and she ought to live out the rest of her life as she would. More than a little dark and sad.
  5. Crowded House, “Don’t Dream It’s Over”: Can you believe some folks play this song at their wedding? That’s almost as weird and disconcerting as playing the Police’s “Every Breath You Take.”
  6. Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s, “Talking In Code”: A relationship ending always strikes me as sad, though a number of relationships are less than stellar and probably shouldn’t have existed in the first place. No one should have to hear someone sing them sad songs to keep them awake.
  7. The Decemberists, “O Valencia!”: There’s always something about the way Colin Meloy sings that always makes a Decemberist song seem like it’s set in the 1860s, even when he makes mention of things like cars.
  8. The Elected, “It Was Love”: As Clif said, “the relationship is probably doomed if you can’t even figure out if you were in love or not.” He ain’t wrong.
  9. The Beatles, “Run For Your Life”: I’m half convinced any relationship involving John Lennon is probably doomed from the start, mostly because of songs like this one.
  10. Old 97s, “The Other Shoe”: If you’re hiding under the bed, waiting for your spouse and her lover, and then you drive out to the central Texas desert to bury their dead bodies, I’m pretty sure that romance is doomed. Very doomed.