Josh naturally inspires this list, especially at
Christmastime. His annotations per selection made each song that much more
alive, so I’ve attempted to do the same. The theme isn’t a tidy thread, if most
songs extend a sense of raw religion (with deference to the Greek etymology:
‘connect again’). All songs here have been produced after my 1993 departure
from the U.S., explaining the conspicuous lack of favorites from Zeppelin,
Bowie, Heart, John Williams (Fiddler),
etc. Enjoy!
1.) Silversun
Pickups, “It Doesn’t Matter Why” (2019). The extension of the title is “we’re
known, we’re just known.” While overtones of ‘Big Brother’ may be a concern for
this Pasadena quartet, they also appear to satirize that notion.
2.) J. Mascis, “SeeYou At The Movies” (2018). A gentler track from an east coast grunge guy,
founder of the band Dinosaur Jr. This song comes from his most recent solo
album, Elastic Days, a fair
coming-to-terms with growing old.
3.) Kurt Vile,
“Bassackwards” (2018). Once the frontman of The War On Drugs, this Philly
native has a hillbilly style and an amiability reminiscent of cousin David
Strand. Play this vinyl record backwards—I betcha no controversies!
4.) Wolf Alice,
“Planet Hunter” (2017). Ellie Roswell heads this band from Camden Town, where
she invariably ran into Amy Winehouse. Different styles result from these
Londoners, yet both provoke a need to stand up for self.
5.) Andy Shauf, “Eyes of Them All” (2016). A friend in my
writers’ group recommended this Saskatchewan artist while I was drafting a
1-act play called “The Bereaved”; it made the final scene and enhanced the mood
of the reveal.
6.) Justin Lavash,
“Love Turns Out Alright” (2015). Fluent in Czech, this British bohemian often
comes to Roztoky. His voice reminds me of Mark Knopfler and Joe Vold, and this
song channels John Paul Jones’ mandolin in “That’s The Way”.
7.) Spoon, “InsideOut” (2014). Josef Lev included this Austin, Texas band on his playlist while
we drove from California to Arizona and back. They probe and push back on “holy
rollers” who may or may not extend gospel truth.
8.) Hillsong United,
“Oceans” (2013). A prayer from Australia that Andrea gave to more of the world.
“(Where Feet May Fail)” reminds me of Mark 9:24, and the rising oceans both of
Noah and our own contributions to climate change.
9.) Aşa, “Why Can’t We” (2011). Emma included
“Fire on the Mountain” from this Nigerian-born artist some years ago. I’m
reminded in this newer song of Lou Bega’s “Mambo No. 5” that Tilo loved
stomping to in a Lombard living room.
10.) Phantogram, “YouAre The Ocean” (2010). I reversed chronology on this list because I wanted the
more meaningful ‘ocean’ song to feature first. Still, this upstate NY duo are
candid about addictions and a need to address them.
11.) Beck, “Volcano”
(2008). Wanted to echo Kirsten’s choice of “Morning” a couple S2L2A3s ago, a
more beautiful song. Why this one? We’re transported to a silent Japan in way
of wonder and care. It rounds out my 5-act Echo
Chamber.
12.) John Prine,
“Taking a Walk” (2005). Jonathan wrote good poems about taking walks with
Yoshi. Prine is from Maywood, where I remember recording an interview with
Grandma Lamken—a lovely walk that may be lost, but not really.
13.) Arcade Fire,
“Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)” (2004). Montreal was Kateřina’s point of entry to
what Dvořak commemorated in
his New World Symphony. The band
mixes nostalgia with angst in this series of neighborhood vignettes.
14.) Sonic Youth,
“Peace Attack” (2004). Perhaps nature in NYC needs to start as early as “3
Feb”, regardless what some groundhog might have indicated the day before.
Oxymorons abound in “the great anti-hate: springtime is wartime.”
15.) Outkast, “HeyYa!” (2003). From Atlanta to your living room, via the raves and craze of early
rock ’n’ roll. André Benjamin is a showman, to be sure, yet also a thoughtful
critic of the music industry, a la Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here.
16.) Yeah Yeah Yeahs,
“Maps” (2003). Yeah, the sequence is a nice coincidence. Another NYC group,
this time showing the dynamics of what a trio can do—Josh and I talked about #s
for a band, Rush and The Police boosting the cause for 3.
17.) Blur, “Coffee and TV” (1999). Another London band—one that Sparta hockey fans love when their
team scores: “woo hoo” from their “Song 2”. I rather picked this ballad,
though, for its nicer musicality and storyboard.
18.) Smashing
Pumpkins, “1979” (1996). Speaking of storyboards, this song has demonstrated
that deeply at workshops, where I encourage teachers to add lyrics to poetry
units. This Chicago band shares my fondness for Cheap Trick.
19.) Phish, “Free”
(1996). Trey Anastasio and his crew are granola Vermonters, like the 80s sitcom
Newhart (Larry, Darryl, Darryl, et
al). Josh bought me Billy Breathes
some years ago and I’ve also used their song “Waste” in workshops.
20.) Pavement,
“Elevate Me Later” (1994). There’s something Oasis about this indie/punk band
from Stockton, California. Ben and I have played a dozen games of chess with Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain in the
background. He’s won most;)
+.) Jon Batiste, “Prince” (2019). Technically not a ‘song’ (sans lyrics), this jazz composition leaves us to imagine if the New Orleans pianist is referring to the Minnepolis icon or, more likely, the Prince of Peace as Batiste would have it.
+.) Jon Batiste, “Prince” (2019). Technically not a ‘song’ (sans lyrics), this jazz composition leaves us to imagine if the New Orleans pianist is referring to the Minnepolis icon or, more likely, the Prince of Peace as Batiste would have it.
Play on! Everyone should have a S2L2A3…
