Playlist #210

Tuesdays are the new Mondays, at least when you spend your Monday sitting at home waiting for the HVAC guy to show up. When he finally does, he’s gonna tell you that you need a whole new system, won’t that be a fun and adult experience to have! Anyway, here’s some songs.

  1. Fleetwood Mac, “Everywhere”: Why do I hear this song as interstitial music, like, everywhere? It’s a good song, mind you – not one of their absolute best, but good – I just don’t see why everyone from Target to NPR is using it.
  2. Daughter of Swords, “Hard On”: Yes, it’s about what you think it’s about, but humorously so and from the woman’s perspective, I think? Or maybe the singer is taking on the role of a man? Either way, it’s a good song, Jerry.
  3. Warren Zevon, “Lawyers, Guns and Money”: If you’re gonna send anything, you could do worse than these three things, I guess.
  4. Mark Knopfler, “Don’t Crash the Ambulance”: So, this song came out in 2004. Is the intended target George W. Bush? Because he ran for reelection that year, sure, but it was re-election. I’d think the kind of advice this song offers – such as “don’t push the big red button or you’ll kill us all” – would have been far more useful and effective about four years earlier.
  5. Uncle Tupelo, “No Sense in Lovin'”: Latter-day Uncle Tupelo sounds like more of a set-up for future bands Son Volt and Wilco, and no more so than on this Jeff Tweedy number that wouldn’t have felt amiss on Wilco’s A.M.
  6. The White Stripes, “Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine”: Just tell us she’s anti-vax and move on, Jack.
  7. Albert King, “Born Under a Bad Sign”: Now, I’m not superstitious, but I am a little stitious. That being said, I’m usually fairly certain I wasn’t born under a bad sign, and wouldn’t really know how to recognize if I was, and I treasure this ignorance. Please, no one tell me what it means, as I might lose some other, more vital, piece of information. I can only keep so many things in my head, and I’d hate to lose something important like my social security number or my wife’s birthday.
  8. Jars of Clay, “Reckless Forgiver”: I probably forgive recklessly. If there’s anything I took from my Christian upbringing (aside from a sense of compassion for those less fortunate and a weird anti-authoritarian theological streak that I cannot get rid of), it’s that forgiveness is vital to a good life. Also, don’t be a dick to other people.
  9. John Prine, “Spanish Pipedream”: I’m not really certain why it’s important that “she was a level-headed dancer,” but I’m sure it must have been important ’cause it’s the first line of the song. You don’t include a detail like that unless it’s vital to understanding the character or plot. Maybe it’s designed to make you think her advice – to “blow up your TV, throw away your paper, move to the country, build you a home, plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try to find Jesus on your own” – is more grounded that it sounds at first blush.
  10. Joe Walsh, “Rocky Mountain Way”: I almost learned to play a B chord for this song, but in the end I just cheat and slide my A chord down two frets and only strum three of the six strings. It’s a cheater B, as I call it, but it works for all the longer you actually have to play that chord in the song. Song’s a banger, though.

Playlist #167: Beach Party

Happy Monday, folks. We’re at the beach this week with the Wife’s family, but I have a surprise! The new book comes out this week! That’s right, Hazzard Pay 7, The Armageddon Seed, will be available sometime this week (whenever it gets through the Amazon process, which should be today or tomorrow?). I’ll show you the cover tomorrow. In the meantime, here’s a playlist while I soak up some sun and splash around in the Atlantic.

  1. Alanis Morissette, “Head Over Feet (Acoustic Version)”: Mellower with age, as things tend to be.
  2. Soundgarden, “Burden In My Head”: The Lithium station on Sirius XM plays a lot of Soundgarden, and I’m kinda here for it, I think.
  3. Charley Pride, “Is Anybody Goin’ to San Antone”: Apparently, my grandfather only ever attended one concert in his life, and it was to see Charley Pride.
  4. Fleetwood Mac, “Seven Wonders”: I’ve developed a certain fondness for latter-day Fleetwood Mac.
  5. The Rolling Stones, “Not Fade Away”: I’m always slightly amazed at how ramshackle and almost chaotic this song is, like the band were barely keeping it together while they played it.
  6. Radiohead, “2+2=5”: On the other hand, you’ve got Radiohead, who even when they get into a heavy breakdown still feel completely in control of everything.
  7. Ben Harper & the Blind Boys of Alabama, “Well, Well, Well”: What’s that, someone doing a Dylan cover? It’s more likely than you’d think!
  8. Band of Horses, “General Specific”: I love this song for reasons I’ve never been able to fully articulate. It just seems so joyful.
  9. Uncle Tupelo, “Steal the Crumbs”: Meanwhile, this song just hits me right in the gut and tugs on the ol’ heartstrings.
  10. Wilco, “Say You Miss Me”: Speaking of the heartstrings, this one gets to me, too. Maybe I’m just more vulnerable to songs of love and loss right now.

Playlist #157

Happy Monday, folks! I hope everyone is doing well, and that folks out in Oklahoma weren’t hit too hard by all that weather over the weekend. It looks like the city of Sulphur got beaten up pretty badly, though.

  1. Uncle Tupelo, “Steal the Crumbs”: Went through an Uncle Tupelo kick late last week, especially their final record, Anodyne. Such a good album, and Jeff Tweedy really starts to find his voice as a songwriter. But Jay Farrar is still the frontman of this band, and this song is a good example of why.
  2. Simon & Garfunkel, “Kathy’s Song”: I’m constantly amazed by what these two could do with just their voices and a single acoustic guitar.
  3. Bob Dylan, “Seven Curses”: A simple tale of a horse thief condemned to death and his daughter, whose only path to freeing him is to sleep with the crooked, sleezy judge. Who, of course, does not free her father, but has him hanged instead. She puts one hell of a curse on him for it, too: “That one doctor cannot save him/That two healers cannot heal him/And that three eyes cannot see him/That four ears cannot hear him/That five walls cannot hide him/That six diggers cannot bury him/And that seven deaths shall never kill him.”
  4. Glen Phillips, “Train Wreck”: Glen Phillips sometimes comes across as a master of songs that are depressing as all hell and very, very bittersweet.
  5. The Head and the Heart, “Rivers and Roads”: The harmonies on this one are pretty nice.
  6. Jackson Browne, “Fountains of Sorrow”: Another one of those bittersweet songs about loss of love and innocence that just feels like a nostalgic gut punch.
  7. Moxy Fruvous, “My Poor Generation”: I always wish these guys had gotten just a little bigger, had stayed together just a little bit longer, and maybe released another album or two. It was awful, coming in right at the end of their time together, getting to hear all the cool stuff they’d done and slowly realizing that, hey, that’s it, there will be no more.
  8. REM, “Sweetness Follows”: I could not for the life of me tell you what this song is about, though it always feels like an elegy to me.
  9. The National, “Lucky You”: Probably the first great song written by these guys. It’s perfect, no notes.
  10. John Prine, “The Late John Garfield Blues”: Damn, but this man wrote simple songs about complicated things. Or maybe complicated songs about simple things? A little of both?

Playlist #106: Crime of the Century

Good morning, playlist people. We’re well into May now, and the end of the school year is in sight! Apparently my wife’s school got robbed over the weekend, which is exciting and frustrating and led me to create this week’s playlist (though I criminally left off Supertramp’s “Crime of the Century,” which I hadn’t realized until I gave this playlist that title just now).

  1. The Decemberists, “The Perfect Crime #2”: “A heist? A heist! No one will ever suspect us, the goofy band that sings about Victorian women swooning on the moors, of being bank robbers.” That’s how I imagined the conversation went.
  2. Genesis, “Home By The Sea”: A song about a dude trying to sneak into a house and getting trapped there by some supernatural entity for all of eternity. As one does.
  3. Sting, “After The Rain Has Fallen”: I only came here to steal your jewelry, not you, m’lady.
  4. Hem, “The Fire Thief”: Ah, the theft of fire, the prototypical thief with a heart of gold story. And the song’s by Hem, which means it sounds beautiful and wistful and ever so slightly sad.
  5. Iron & Wine, “Arms Of A Thief”: I dunno, Sam, maybe the arms of a thief aren’t as safe as you’d have us beleive.
  6. Uncle Tupelo, “Steal The Crumbs”: I feel like my cat does this, only she doesn’t just go for crumbs. She’d take the whole sandwich, given half a chance.
  7. Van Morrison, “Steal My Heart Away”: I always like to imagine that every thief is really just there to steal your love more than anything else. All the jewels and cash are just a bonus.
  8. The Beastie Boys, “Rhymin & Stealin”: Just rockin’ it old school, or Old Skool, if you will.
  9. LEN, “Steal My Sunshine”: I am not sorry.
  10. Ben Harper, “Steal My Kisses”: Poor Ben. Maybe it’s time to find a new ladyfriend who is more giving with her smooches.

Playlist #80

Good afternoon, guys, gals, and enby pals! It’s another week, so here’s another playlist.

  1. Sister Rosetta Tharpe, “That’s All”: The woman who really ought to receive more credit for creating rock and roll.
  2. Spoon, “My Mathematical Mind”: Anyone who knows me knows my mind is not mathematical at all.
  3. Uncle Tupelo, “Moonshiner”: Never was a song about bootlegging and making your own whiskey up in a still in the woods so melancholy.
  4. Joe Walsh, “Rocky Mountain Way”: “And we don’t need the ladies/Crying ’cause the story’s sad.”
  5. Jesse Malin, “Addicted”: You gotta be real careful listening to this song while driving, or you’ll find yourself doing 90.
  6. Robert Johnson, “Cross Road Blues”: Does it get any better than Robert Johnson? No, it does not. This man was taken far too young.
  7. Chris Isaak, “We Let Her Down”: I played a song for my wife that I wrote and recorded the other day. “It sounds like Chris Isaak,” she said. And I agreed and was happy about that.
  8. The Minus 5, “Dear My Inspiration”: Had this song stuck in my head all morning. That’s not a bad thing. Scott McCaughey writes a damn catchy tune.
  9. T. Rex, “20th Century Boy”: C’mon, guys, it’s the 21st century now. Aren’t we due for an update?
  10. Townes Van Zandt, “Pancho And Lefty”: Is there a better story song about desperados trying their damnedest to escape their own sins, only to fail because of human frailty and the desire to get out a little bit ahead and yet still find yourself isolated and alone and incapable of feeling anything?

Playlist #60: Road Trip!

Happy Monday! I’m currently in Oklahoma, preparing to leave tomorrow for Utah with my mother to visit a number of national parks. So this is being written before I head out west, since I’m not sure I’ll have the time to write one the week of. Make sure to follow me on Patreon! I would appreciate the love, and you’ll appreciate the music!

  1. Johnny Cash, “I’ve Been Everywhere”: I’ve done a lot of traveling over the years. I haven’t been everywhere, mind you, but I’ve been to lots of places around the US. The last time I was in Utah was 1996, the year I won the coveted Cottrell Hiker of the Year award.
  2. John Mellencamp, “Rumble Seat”: Cars don’t have rumble seats anymore. We should bring them back, because I’m sure they’re super practical and not at all dangerous or anything.
  3. John Fullbright, “Jericho (Live)”: An Okie with a damn good ear for a good tune.
  4. David Gray, “Fugitive”: I happen to love David Gray’s Draw the Line album. It’s my favorite of his post-White Ladder work.
  5. Dawes, “A Little Bit Of Everything”: This song talks about making potatoes at one point. It’s weird and cute and I kinda love it.
  6. Deer Tick, “Easy”: I really enjoy this song and the harmonies in it, though you wouldn’t think the lead singer was capable of harmonizing with anyone.
  7. Uncle Tupelo, “No Depression”: After the school year I’ve had, I could use a vacation, especially one in a land that’s free from care.
  8. The Who, “Going Mobile”: It’s one of the most ridiculous Who songs out there (trumped only by “Eminence Front”). I love it anyway.
  9. Young Dubliners, “Last House On The Street”: My uncle’s band used to cover this song all the time. I like it.
  10. Willie Nelson, “Highwayman”: Who doesn’t love a song that goes from swashbuckling highway robber to starship captain in, like, four verses?

Playlists #15 and #16

Did you think I’d forgotten? That I had decided to stop posting weekly playlists? No! I’ve just been visiting family in Oklahoma, and not everyone has reliable wi-fi. Anyway, here’s last week’s and this week’s lists. *EDIT* Now with links to the playlists on Spotify!

Playlist #15

  1. Jelly Roll Morton, “Black Bottom Stomp”: There are legends (likely started by Jelly Roll himself) that he created jazz and that this is the first recorded jazz song. I’m not real sure on all that, but it is a good song.
  2. The Hotdamns, “Gina Lynn”: Our friend Danielle was in this band back in the day, and they’re really good. Y’all should check out their two releases available on iTunes.
  3. The High Kings, “Galway Girl”: I think I have this song because an after-school jam group I was playing with was doing it. It’s Irish and fun, as those things tend to be.
  4. Healthy White Baby, “Strong Reactor”: Great band, terrible name. Part of my web of Wilco-related groups (the bassist, Laurie Stirratt, is sibling to Wilco’s bassist John Stirratt). Ask me and I’ll gladly tell you. of how almost a dozen bands are all connected via the band Wilco.
  5. Faces, “Three Button Hand Me Down”: A fun story song about the suit that the orphan kid got when he left the orphanage and how it’s served him well all these years.
  6. Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors, “Good Light”: A rootsy tune by a dude with an amazing beard.
  7. Dire Straits, “The Man’s Too Strong”: Now, I’ll be the first to admit that the Dire Straits album cuts are a little weak sometimes. For every “Sultans of Swing,” there’s a “Les Boys.” But this one slaps, folks.
  8. Spoon, “Do You”: I could just listen to the album this song is off of, They Want My Soul, over and over again, and frequently have.
  9. Monsters of Folk, “Say Please”: A collaboration between the likes of Connor Oberst, My Morning Jacket’s Jim James, M. Ward, and Mike Mogis should be pretty damn good, but the album this song is off of falls pretty short of the God-tier supergroups like the Traveling WIlburys. This song is alright, though
  10. The Offspring, “Self Esteem”: A couple weeks back, I was playing guitar at my dad’s house, and my step-brother’s son, Bryson, apparently really like this song by the Offspring. It’s just three chords, so it was easy to learn. Hard to sing, though.

Playlist #16

  1. Van Morrison, “The Great Deception”: I’ve been borrowing my father’s Mustang Mach 1 while I’ve been visiting (a very fun car to drive, let me tell you), and Van’s Hard Nose the Highway was one of the few CDs I borrowed from him to listen to in the car. I’ve heard “The Great Deception” about a dozen times in the past two weeks, and I’m still not tired of it.
  2. Lizzo & Cardi B, “Rumors”: It slaps. Lizzo drops what the young folks might refer to as knowledge on ya, and it’s just a really well-done pop/rap song.
  3. Shania Twain, “That Don’t Impress Me Much”: Is it possible to not sing along with this song when it comes on? I posit that it is, in fact, impossible not to sing along.
  4. Neil Young, “Harvest”: My brother played the dance remix version of this song for me last night. I now question everything I ever thought I understood about music.
  5. Placebo, “You Don’t Care About Us”: The ’90s were a wild time, weren’t they? Yes, yes they were.
  6. Uncle Tupelo, “Whiskey Bottle”: “Whiskey bottle over Jesus/Not forever, but just for now.” Chills, man.
  7. Zoe Keating, “Optimist”: I don’t usually listen to strictly instrumental music. I make an exception for Zoe Keating, a cellist who can make that thing sit up and beg if you want her to.
  8. The Killers, “Somebody Told Me”: Clyde maintains this is the best band (and their best album) of the 21st century. He might be right.
  9. Linda Ronstadt, “When Will I Be Loved?” I heard my uncle play this particular song so many times back in college and graduate school when he was playing in a country cover band. It is not recommended that you try to two-step to this one.
  10. Old Crow Medicine Show, “Wagon Wheel”: The bane of open mics across the southwest, but still a fun and easy song to rock out to.

Playlist #2

Here’s this week’s playlist. I was feeling a little more melancholy this week than last, which I feel is reflected in the selections.

  1. Josh Ritter, “Come and Find Me”: Pretty sure most of this song is just a G chord with little variations to keep it interesting.
  2. The Lemonheads, “Into Your Arms”: One of my team teachers loves the Lemonheads (she’s seen them in concert dozens if not hundreds of times) and I learned how to play this song on the guitar for her. It’s a good and simple song.
  3. The Low Millions, “Eleanor”: Did you know Leonard Cohen’s son had a band? And it was this band? And they never put out another album other than the one this song is on? It’s all true.
  4. The Marshall Tucker Band, “Can’t You See”: I’m a sucker for songs with a real simple chord progression, and this one is just D, C, G, D the entire way through. That’s it. No variation, no chorus, nothing but those three chords.
  5. The National, “90-Mile Water Wall”: My favorite part of this early song from the National is that you can hear the lead singer breathing into the microphone if you listen for it.
  6. Neko Case, “Margaret and Pauline”: Such a beautiful song and character sketch. The juxtaposition of the two characters is sad and gorgeous.
  7. Sturgill Simpson, “Keep It Between the Lines”: Part of the album Simpson wrote ostensibly as advice to his newly-born child, this one advises the listener to, “Stay in school/stay off the hard stuff and/keep it’ tween the lines.” Good advice for anyone, really.
  8. Uncle Tupelo, “High Water”: There was a time in graduate school where I became more than a little obsessed with everything even tangentially related to the band Wilco, which included Jeff Tweedy’s original band Uncle Tupelo. This song, from their fourth and final album, is a good indicator of why I liked them so much if not really representative of what they did as a band (think “punk country” or “alt-country,” if you will).
  9. Van Morrison, “Wonderful Remark”: Specifically, the version from the Philosopher’s Stone collection of outtakes and rarities. The original version is awesome, too, though this one somehow feels more striped down without the overwhelming piano of the original (and this one has flute).
  10. Ryan Adams & the Cardinals, “Friends”: Ryan Adams, I think we can all agree, has some problems. Dude is terrible to women and suffers from diarrhea of the recording studio (remember those times he put out three albums in a single calendar year? Yeah, I said times, plural, ’cause he’s done it more than once). But this song, from the double-album Cold Roses (which I still insist would have made one of the finest single albums of his career if he’d just cut some of the fat from the two-disc set), is still one of the best he’s ever written or committed to tape.