the sunday superlative - 8/9/09

This Week: Grab Bag: 80s Pop



As we all know, film director John Hughes died earlier this week. Mr. Hughes was responsible for some of the most popular and memorable comedies of the 80s, including (but not limited to) The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I thought, in the spirit of those films, that it was time to bust out another jovial grab bag of 80s pop. I'll let the songs speak for themselves!

The Hooters - "And We Danced" (mp3|4.43MB)
The harmonica makes yet another appearance, and while it's not quite as essential here as it has proven to be in other songs, it still adds quite a bit of character to what is, dammit, just one of the happiest and most irresistible pop songs of the entire 80s decade. It's so lively and cheerful and upbeat and plain damn memorable that it's no wonder the song was such a rousing success. Unfortunately, The Hooters never again reached the same plateau of musical popularity (fortunately for them, they had the masculine foresight to open a chain of curiously appealing restaurants). Still, every so often this song will creep onto FM radio waves, and every time I'll crank the volume up and bop along. It's joyful.
(from the 1985 album Nervous Night)

Oingo Boingo - "Grey Matter" (mp3|5.37MB)
Ain't nobody gonna deny that Danny Elfman is among the most successful musicians of the last thirty years. It's inarguable. Still, as captivating as his myriad film scores and The Simpsons theme may be, I'm still most partial to his work with the eccentric and often flat-out brilliant Oingo Boingo. My co-DJ is always throwing head-nods my way for introducing her to stuff, but it is to her that I am indebted for Boingo. "Grey Matter" is not one of their best-known songs, but by rights it should be: it has the same jaunty, yet more-than-slightly sinister edge that definies their most popular work. It's catchy, addictive, and purely Elfman. "There's something inside your head," he sings. I know what it is: this song, for the rest of the day. Have fun.
(from the 1982 album Nothing to Fear)

Was (Not Was) - "Walk the Dinosaur" (mp3|4.00MB)
Okay, first of all: dumbest fucking band name ever. We're talking, like, even dumber than Deep Blue Something. It's a good thing "Walk the Dinosaur" is such a groovin' song. I mean, it's dumb as hell, too; maybe not as dumb as the band name, but its lyrics feature at least one instance of eye-gougingly improper grammar (delivered in unison with a head-scratcher of a lyric about roasting pork), and the entire song is just kind of goofy-stupid for goofy-stupidity's sake. The good news? I kinda like goofy-stupid. This song is giddy. It makes me want to dance in the geekiest way, and I guess at the end of the day that means it's done its job right.
(from the 1988 album What Up, Dog? No, seriously, apparently that's actually the title)

All right, folks. That's it for me. Have a good week, and try your best to survive these dog days of summer. Lea's got you for Friday, and I'll be back a week from tonight. Adios!

As always, please send all comments, questions, concerns, and coupon catalogues that neither of us has any clue how the hell we got on the mailing list for to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Keep it real, homies.

the sunday superlative - 8/2/09

This Week: Bands I Haven't Seen Live I Mean Srsly Wtf



Because I'm all about counterbalancing. And no, The Decemberists are not included. And no, I still haven't seen them. And no, this fact does not lead to me harbor any murderous urges. I have no idea where you might get that notion.

Anyway. I overstepped my limits again and did, like, a lot of songs. But (1) it's been, like, a month and a half, right? And (2) this is a fraction of the bands I want to see. A fraction. It was hard narrowing down by even this much. Srsly.

AFI - "Days of the Phoenix" (mp3|3.17MB)
Oh, AFI. One of those bands I fell for in middle school and, against all odds, I'm still in love with years and years later. I remember hearing "Days of the Phoenix" in 7th grade. 2001. It was the first of their songs I ever heard, and it's still one of my favorite songs ever. I somehow doubt this is ever going to change. But it begs the question: if you hold onto a favorite that long, through all of those tumultuous teenage years, doesn't it stand to reason that at some point one might go out of his way to see a concert by the band in question? Yeah. I'd have thought so, too. Someday. Definitely someday. Or a Blaqk Audio show. I'd settle for one of those, too. Preferably both, though. K, moving on.
(from the 2000 album The Art of Drowning)

Brand New - "Jaws Theme Swimming" (mp3|6.28MB)
I'm beyond denying it: Brand New is one of my favorite bands. I've finally gotten over the fact that they play a style of music I'm usually very adverse to and just come to accept that I really, really fucking love their stuff. And while The Devil and God remains their masterpiece and Daisy remains my #1 most anticipated album for the latter half of 2009, this summer I've also come to realize just how great their 2003 breakthrough Deja Entendu is. It's generally a tad more accessible, but with the same ear for melody and encompassing darkness that makes their 2006 album so brilliant. This, "Jaws Theme Swimming," is my favorite track from it. But of course you'll probably find your own. Oh: and I really, really need to see them live. Really.
(from the 2003 album Deja Entendu)

Daft Punk - "Around the World/Harder Better Faster Stronger" [live] (mp3|7.84MB)
According to literally anyone who has ever seen them live, Daft Punk is one of the greatest concert experiences a person can ever have. Based on the entirety of their Alive 2007 album (in contention for greatest live album ever, and no I am not exaggerating; it's certainly Daft Punk's best release, and one of the finest electronic albums out there) and some eye-popping videos that have cropped up on YouTube, it's easy to see why. Until the day I finally get the opportunity, I'll just sit and drool at this live cut. It mashes up two of their best-known songs into one cohesive piece that makes me wonder why they were ever separate in the first place. It's so amazing.
(from the 2007 album Alive 2007)

Silversun Pickups - "Growing Old Is Getting Old" (mp3|7.04MB)
This song is incredible. That's all there is to it. Far and away one of the best songs of 2009. It starts off as a cool, restrained bass groove, but then at around three minutes undergoes one of the most shattering change-ups I have ever heard and emerges as not only a poignant meditation on life as a whole, but also a complete ass-kicking powerhouse. I can only imagine how it must translate to a concert setting, where the band would be given free reign to just RAWK OUT and tear that second half to shreds. I have no doubt it'd be kind of dazzling, as would hearing most of their discography. Oh man. I don't even want to imagine. I'm going to make myself way too envious.
(from the 2009 album Swoon)

And lastly, so I don't feel completely defeated ...

Apoptygma Berzerk - "Eclipse" (mp3|8.18MB)
Hahahaaaaa. Ha. Ha. HA. Oh, by the way, this is inarguably one of the best electronic songs ever written. Just sayin'. So don't mess with it.
(from the 2000 album Welcome to Earth)

I'll see you guys next week. Yes. Next week! It's time we got this shit back on track!

As always, feel free to send comments, suggestions, requests, or Nigerian bank spam to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. All forms of correspondence are warmly welcomed and possibly even anticipated.

super saturday - 13.06.09 - down, down, down

I thought what I would do this week is consolidate. Lea is, at the moment, indisposed (as I too will be in a week's time, so this may be the last FFR post for a couple weeks), so she asked me to sub for the Friday Five. Given the expansive nature of the theme I'd had planned for Sunday, I decided to just wrap everything up into one extra-large package this week. So here's the regular five plus the regular three, simultaneously one night late and one night early. Can't beat that.

Now, then. High Fidelity, a great film in and of itself, begins with one of my all-time favorite movie quotes: "What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos; that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

It's funny because it's so true. The most famous of all classical compositions may be Beethoven's "Ode to Joy," but more often than not sorrow seems to be the word of the day when discussing what we today consider popular music. What moves us emotionally is entirely subjective, so I disclaim myself in advance, but here are a few choice cuts that seem to deeply resonate sadness. And this is by no means a bad thing: in some cases, these can be as great as music gets. Just don't get too close to the edge.



David Bowie - "Five Years" (mp3|4.31MB)
You know, when Bowie stops honing his image-du-jour and actually writes a song, he can really pull it off. "Five Years" is the first track from his legendary Ziggy Stardust album, and it could possibly be the best song he has ever written (don't make me choose, though; he kind of has a lot). The idea's simple: he, through his Ziggy Stardust persona, observes all the tragedy and sadness inherent in everyday life and gloomily proclaims that, if we carry on this way, five years is "all we've got." Of course, this was 37 years ago and the world has remained much the same, but likewise so has Bowie's message and its impact. I don't care how ham-fisted this sounds. Listen to the way the man belts it out and you can't help it. You're a goner. Maybe songs like this aren't the real reason Bowie is the stuff of legends, but in my world I'd like to think so. One way or another, he's earned it.
(from the 1972 album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust)

Brand New - "Limousine (MS Rebridge)" (mp3|10.58MB)
Given time, I'm sure I'll end up posting this entire album. But how can I help it? It's one of the best albums I've ever heard, and it shows no sign of giving up that title anytime soon. "Limousine" is its logical centerpiece: an eight-minute epic about death at the hands of a drunk driver that, by means both soft and loud, slowly works itself into one of the most devastating songs I have heard. I don't know how Jesse Lacey does it, but even repeating the same lyric over and over (but counting up each time) is enough to tear my heart out. And then there's that crescendo, and ... oh man, it's a hell of a song.
(from the 2006 album The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me)

The Cure - "The Last Day of Summer" (mp3|5.13MB)
The Cure should have called it quits with Bloodflowers. I love them to death, but they should have. And not just because their last two albums have sucked a big one, but because it would've been such a fitting swan song for them. Somehow the idea of a band that has garnered "most depressing ever" tags for three solid decades bowing out with an album as mellow, beautiful, and heartbreaking as Bloodflowers just seems right. "The Last Day of Summer," possibly its finest moment, features one of the saddest atmospheres I've ever encountered in a song. I can't put my finger on it, but it kills me every time. And if a line like "The last day of summer never felt so cold" seems cliche on paper, wait until you hear Robert Smith sing it. You'll change your mind.
(from the 2000 album Bloodflowers)

Death Cab for Cutie - "Tiny Vessels" (mp3|5.99MB)
Death Cab's Transatlanticism, by far their best album, is chock-full of moments I find curiously harrowing, but on no song does this feeling reach the height it does on "Tiny Vessels." It's really a visceral reaction, because I can't even begin to describe just why the song does this to me (it's a fairly straightforward anti-love ballad). It just does. Hats off to Ben Gibbard for finding just the right buttons to push. It's atmospheric in evocative ways, melancholy to the core, and consequently it has exactly the desired effect. Bravo.
(from the 2003 album Transatlanticism)

Guillemots - "Trains to Brazil" (mp3|5.52MB)
I listened to this song at least ten times before I realized what it's about. As soon as it hit me, I probably listened to it another ten times in a row. Move over, Springsteen and Bono and all you humanitarian, world-conscious rockers. "Trains to Brazil," an unassuming pop track by a British indie band only seven people have heard of, is the best song about terrorism ever written (it's ostensibly about a man who loses his best friend in the 2005 London subway bombings). If you've never heard it before, step right up! If you have, go back and listen to it again with this in mind. The lyrics will all click into place, and it'll destroy you. But in such a great way.
(from the 2006 album From the Cliffs)

The Hold Steady - "First Night" (mp3|6.74MB)
The Hold Steady's Boys and Girls in America is a landmark album, right down to its near-iconic title. I don't know how apparent this was in 2006, or is today, but mark my words: someday it will be regarded as the cultural touchstone of the 2000s. Really, it's the ultimate "youth album" of our generation: the parties, the sex, the drinking, the drugs, the ennui, the depression -- it's all there, delivered with the utmost of care by Craig Finn (whose lyrics are, for what he's getting at, unbelievably good). "First Night" is Finn's honest, touching admission that the party has to end sometime, and if you've put everything you had into said party, what do you have left when it's over? It's a beautifully sad song, heartstring-tugging and true. By the time it erupts into its coda, you rock along not because you're having a great time, but because you realize the imporance of everything Finn has been saying.
(from the 2006 album Boys and Girls in America)

Billy Joel - "Piano Man" (mp3|5.12MB)
Say what you will about Billy Joel. Heck, I even have a few choice words for some of his output. But nothing can change the fact that "Piano Man" is, and likely will always be, one of my favorite songs. It was the song that really put Mr. Joel on the map, and deservingly so. I get the feeling that most of the lyrics here are largely autobiographical, which only makes his ultimate rags-to-riches trajectory seem all the more triumphant. Also: this song totally would've fit right in for that harmonica post I did a while back. Just sayin'.
(from the 1973 album Piano Man)

Train - "Meet Virginia" (mp3|3.65MB)
I've got to admit, I'm really not familar with Train. One of the reasons may be because they're called Train. But I heard this song on the radio several years ago, liked it, downloaded it, and fell in love. It probably shouldn't surprise you by now that it's something of a downer, but it's a poignant one: a sobering look into white-trash hell and the halfway decent people who unwillingly inhabit it. Again, if the description alone doesn't sound appealing, the band's delivery turns it into a low-key home run. It may not be the best song ever written, but it's one I think very highly of. It just works.
(from the 1998 album Train)

Righto. That'll do it for me, folks. Catch you next time!

As always, send all email and amusing forwarded spam to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. No, seriously. This is not merely a tag we stick at the bottom of each entry to satisfy our readers. I'm going to go check this as soon as I'm done posting. Honest. ... no, really. I am.

the sunday superlative presents: make-up monday

I totally dropped the ball. I forgot yesterday was Sunday. This is slightly worrisome given the fact that my Sunday routine is notably distinct from anything I do on any other day of the week, but there we go. Just like missing a test and taking it one day late, please accept the slightly-delayed Monday Make-Up in place of what should have been yesterday's post.


"Now you f*cked up!" -- Abraham Lincoln

This Week: This Ain't Usually My Thing, But ...

Exceptions to rules are usually just happy accidents. If you're anything resembling a sensible human being, you tend to say away from music you know you don't like. Still, every once in a while an anomaly creeps onto your radar screen: something you like that you wouldn't normally. It makes you scratch your head. It makes you wonder why. It makes you delve deeper into that particular genre hoping to find more good stuff, then hit yourself because you're suddenly reminded, "Oh yeah, that's right. I hate this crap." Here are a few personal choices for allies living within enemy lines:

Linkin Park - "In the End" (mp3|4.45MB)
I like this song. I really have no idea why, especially because I hate Linkin Park. Hate Linkin Park. Hate everything about Linkin Park, right down to their wannabe-clever band name (which, really, is almost as bad of a name as The Beatles; the difference is, of course, that one of the aforementioned is the greatest pop band of all-time, while the other shares its collective molecular structure with that of raw sewage). But, uh, yeah. "In the End." I like it. There's no good reason for me to hold this opinion: it's just one of those "I liked it in middle school" songs that inexplicably stuck (and this in itself is weird, because in 7th grade I thought Electric Light Orchestra was the shit -- AND THEY ARE -- and really wasn't listening to, ya know, Linkin Park). You'll probably download it and think it's crap. I wouldn't blame you, either. But I've gotta be honest when I post these blogs, right? Right.
(from the 2000 album Hybrid Theory)

Electric Light Orchestra - "Don't Bring Me Down" (mp3|4.66MB)
Who the hell is Bruce?

Streetlight Manifesto - "A Moment of Silence" (mp3|7.17MB)
Back on track. I'm really not a fan of ska, which makes the fact that I'm really a fan of Streetlight Manifesto somewhat curious. But they're good. They're really good. Good enough, even, to convince me that getting trampled for two hours can actually be fun. "A Moment of Silence" is, in my humble opinion at least, the undisputed highlight of their 2003 debut Everything Goes Numb. It's one of the slower songs, to be sure, but melodically rich and highly satisfying. Of course, I'm depriving you of its considerably-sped-up counterpart "A Moment of Violence," but hey. You need something to keep digging for, right?
(from the 2003 album Everything Goes Numb)

Titus Andronicus - "Arms Against Atrophy" (mp3|9.72MB)
Anger. Despite (or, more likely, because of) my sarcastic disposition, it is honestly not something I experience very much of. As a result, the seething rage of this New Jersey-based punk band, named after Shakespeare's most notoriously brutal and bloody play, is likewise not something I've ever really been able to get into. The Airing of Grievances was far from my favorite album of '08, and the effect of listening to it as a piece yields the unfortunate effect of having all the songs smear together into one murky, pissed-off blur. Still, there's an exception to every rule. From my first listen, there was just something about "Arms Against Atrophy" that grabbed me. What is the secret ingredient that sets it aside from its admittedly similar counterparts? Is it the bleak, apocalyptic melody? The curiously enigmatic lyrics? The fact that, no shit, I listened to it for the first time ever on June 22 last year? Who knows? But I like it, enough even to say that not only will this likely be the only track from their debut I'll be returning to, but one I'll be returning to with some frequency.
(from the 2008 album The Airing of Grievances)

'Til next time, folks. Maybe I'll actually remember what day of the week it is.

As always, all email and ticking electronic packages related to the Sunday Superlative should be sent to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Responses are prompt, friendly, and therefore probably not written by either of us.

the sunday superlative - 5/31/09

This Week: Boing-Boom-Tschak, Techno-Pop.



I like my electronica. Maybe a little too much. Even this week's theme heading is a geeky electro reference. But let's be honest: you know that old saying, "The fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach"? Not true with me. The fastest way to my heart is through a well-crafted electropop song. As much as I love ambition and creativity and envelope-pushing, sometimes I just wanna dance. Here are a few choice cuts by artists who share that sentiment.

Party on, Wayne.

Fischerspooner - "Never Win" (mp3|5.48MB)
It's nice to like a song just because it's catchy. Fischerspooner is not a pretentious band. I wonder if they know what pretensions are (I mean, they're a duo named Fischer and Spooner, respectively; I'm not sure you can get much more unpretentious than that). They just make straightforward, often very well written dance-pop that no doubt thrills just as much on the floor as it does through the headphones. "Never Win" is my personal favorite from their 2005 sophomore album: it's an energetic stomp through lyrical themes that, while not exactly new to pop music, come across as relatively lightweight and fun just because of the guys' approach. Check it out. You'll be humming it to yourself on your commute tomorrow morning, I promise. Or, well, actually I don't. But it is highly addictive.
(from the 2005 album Odyssey)

Ladytron - "Destroy Everything You Touch" (mp3|9.28MB)
It took one song for Ladytron to win me over forever. One listen to "Destroy Everything You Touch" and I was a goner. This wasn't merely one of the best tracks of 2005; it's shaping up to be one of the best singles of the entire decade. It's the kind of song so good that the band will have to struggle for the rest of their career to even come close to matching its power, as good as their other stuff may be (and it certainly is). Moving away from their prior plasticky-sounding electroclash stylings, they created a more full-blooded and domineering sound with their '05 opus Witching Hour (the entirety of which you also need), and as a result created something most electro fans will have an extremely hard time saying "no" to. "Destroy" is an icy, pounding, vigorous song, but sexily so. In essence, I imagine it's everything these guys (and gals) ever wanted to do with their music. It's certainly everything I'll ever want from it.
(from the 2005 album Witching Hour)

Plastic Operator - "Singing All the Time" (mp3|6.63MB)
It's the vocals. I've spent months dissecting this song, trying to figure out just what makes it so charming. Instrumentally, it's just your standard, run-of-the-mill synth swooner, but the slightly accent-laden voice of Pieter Van Dessel takes the song and knocks it clear out of the park. It seems appropriate for a song called "Singing All the Time," no? His highly melodic delivery is soothing in an almost preternatural way. I can't get enough of it. It's perfectly lovely, and in hindsight one of 2007's most overlooked gems. Too overlooked, in fact: Plastic Operator is the band that foiled even the supposedly infallible Amoeba. As much as I'd still gladly sell my soul to that heavenly Hollywood landmark, I asked a clerk specifically about these guys and he came up empty. Ah well. That's what the internet is for, right? Right. Check it out. It's the kind of buried treasure that inspires you to dig for more just so you can match it. That, to me, is pretty inspiring.
(from the 2007 album Different Places)

Pure Reason Revolution - "AVO" (mp3|8.01MB)
Sorry if I keep harping on this band, but I can't help it, okay? They are responsible for what is incontestably, in my eyes at least, one of 2009's finest albums, and the sad truth is that no one outside of a smallish cult following knows about them. Contrary to what most fans might say, this year's Amor Vincit Omnia is a marked improvement over their also-great 2006 debut The Dark Third: they've moved away from a lush, Floydian prog-rock into a more synthetic electronica while still holding onto the epic tendencies and stylistic touches that made them unique in the first place (multi-part vocal harmonies, anyone?). It's a small wonder the best songs are actually the ones that rely most heavily on their newfound synths and drum machines. Despite many stand-out tracks, they could not have chosen a more fitting closer than "AVO." What starts off as a gentle piano ballad with electronic embellishments gradually escalates into a life-affirming war cry, with the album's title being chanted over and over to astonishing effect. Simpy put: you need this song if you don't have it, and you need to listen to it again if you do. It's that good.
(from the 2009 album Amor Vincit Omnia)

yeah okay i did four songs again but its not like i had a choice in the matter

As always, send lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative or even some synth bloops of your own to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. The latter is especially true if your name is Thom Yorke and you want my personal opinion on your band's new album in advance of its release.

the sunday superlative - 5/24/09

This Week: Summer Anthems



I think this theme can capably speak for itself. Most people mark Memorial Day weekend as the unoffical beginning of summer (seriously, Summer Solstice: who are you kidding? You're way too late and we both know it), so I thought it'd be appropriate to break out a few of my favorite summertime anthems. And not just "summer anthems" in the traditional what's-popular sense, but songs from all eras that actively remind me of the warmth, relaxation, and laidback atmosphere of the year's most carefree season.

Go go Gadget summer.

The B-52's - "Rock Lobster" (mp3|6.23MB)
Really, it was only a matter of time before one of us found an excuse to post this song. Don't say you weren't expecting it. Maybe I suffer from an acute tunnelvision, but I can't conceive of how it would be possible for someone to dislike this song. I mean, seriously. It's so exuberantly, shamelessly cracked out that it's got to be some kind of insane musical landmark. At the very least, it's the perfect encapsulation of the "sunny" side of late-70s New Wave (of course there was a very dark side, too -- see: Joy Division, The Cure, etc.), and one of the funnest songs you're ever likely to hear. Plus, it has the best bassline ever. Bar none. No contest. That bassline can have my babies.
(from the 1979 album The B-52's)

The Fiery Furnaces - "Here Comes the Summer" (mp3|4.94MB)
It's songs like this that make me not care for The Fiery Furnaces all that much. Hear me out: I really like the song. I wouldn't post it otherwise. But it serves as a somewhat frustrating reminder of what this brother-sister team can do when they stop being self-consciously weird and "quirky" and actually sit down to write a pop song. I have no doubt, were they to invest the appopriate amount of effort in the endeavor, they could be one of the best indie-pop acts around; instead, they opt for being weird and "difficult," which often makes listening to their albums an aggravating experience. Still, even though the grass is always greener, they've at least been kind enough to give us a taste of the other side: "Here Comes the Summer" is delightful. It's warm and catchy, though tinged with a healthy dose of wistfulness and melancholy, while still sounding inherently like The Fiery Furnaces. So: it's a solid pop song that sounds like the work of a unique band. That's most artists' dream. Why would you want to complicate that?
(from the 2005 album EP)

The Lovin' Spoonful - "Summer in the City" (mp3|2.46MB)
I couldn't care less if it's an overly obvious choice; it's one of the finest pop songs ever recorded. What might not be immediately apparent to today's retroactive listening crowd is how innovative the production is. This was 1966. Recording technology was still relatively simplistic. Still, these guys manage to pepper their best-ever song with spiffy car horn and jackhammer sound effects while also making use of, to my knowledge, one of the earliest instances of synthesizers in rock. Of course, none of this would be important if the song itself wasn't phenomenal, but it is. The result is one of the best songs of the mid-60s: it's one whose timelessness has allowed it to endure, and I'm sure kids will still be humming it in another 43 years.
(from the 1966 album Hums of the Lovin' Spoonful)

See you folks next week! Enjoy the beginning of your summer! Have a barbecue, jump in the pool, crank up that AC. Bonus points if you can do all three at once.

As always, lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative is welcomed at fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. All flames will be gleefully ignored, and therefore should be sent here instead.

the sunday superlative - 5/17/09

This Week: Experimental Germany



Much has been made about the overwhelming influence 1970s Krautrock has had on modern music. And I do mean overwhelming. I'm making a gross generalization here, but it's fairly safe to say that modern electronica, dance music, and even hip-hop would not have been possible if not for the hyperrhythmic innovations made in Germany throughout the 70s. The unfortunate thing about "influential" anything is that it can sometimes be a chore: you can see the brilliance, but it's just not enjoyable. Luckily for the world, much of 70s Krautrock still holds up very well to this day. Tonight I present to you highlights from three of the canonical Kraut bands (if not the three most canonical). Enjoy!

Can - "Vitamin C" (mp3|4.85MB)
It's easy to forget amid all this talk of the illustrious "Can jam" that there really was a German band called Can, and that their music was quite a bit more challenging than the laidback rock groove style generally attributed to their name might suggest. "Vitamin C," for all its frenetic instrumentation and paranoid rhythms, is probably just about the most accessible song they ever did. A friend once told me it's still somewhat of a staple among breakdancers, which is both badass and completely understandable. It's a great song, charged with energy, and one of the first to attempt a style that seems almost commonplace today. It's really, really cool. Just don't listen to it and think the rest of Can's music is going to be this "easy." It's not. Which isn't to say it's not rewarding: it is (Tago Mago is, by all means, a great album). It's just ... being on the cutting edge means you have to sacrifice a lot of conventional appeal. These guys still seem pretty far out, even forty years later. But really, isn't that why they're so great?
(from the 1972 album Ege Bamyasi)

Kraftwerk - "The Robots" (mp3|8.52MB)
No post entitled "Experimental Germany" would be complete without Kraftwerk. It's borderline treasonous. Against the Germans, of course. But honestly: no other Kraut band has ever been as influential as these guys (few bands period have been). They pioneered electronic music. If they didn't create it, they at least honed it into the serious art form we recognize today. While they have many standouts in their catalog, their best-ever song (for my money) will always be the chilling opener to their 1978 opus The Man-Machine. It's sinister, yet catchy and alluring (and if it sounds primitive by today's standards, remember: this was mindblowing stuff in 1978). It's one of the first songs in music history that sounds like it could have been made entirely by machines. And of course that's exactly the point.
(from the 1978 album The Man-Machine)

Neu! - "Hallogallo" (mp3|11.58MB)
Now this is the laidback groove I'm talkin' about. When contemporary indie bands like Fujiya & Miyagi or Death Cab pay homage to "Krautrock bands like Can," they're really paying their respects just as much to the unjustly forgotten (but no less hugely influential) Neu! This is just one chilled-out, relaxing song. Nevermind its length: instead of watching the time bar, just kick back. Cool off. This won't necessarily take you places, but it'll at least make you a little bit happier to be where you are.
(from the 1972 album Neu!)

That'll do it! Back to work tomorrow for most folks, sadly. But have a good week, okay? I'm counting on you for it!

As before, I would love it if you'd send lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Requests, comments, suggestions, and death threats are all welcome in equal measure.

the sunday superlative - 4/19/09

This Week: Selected Highlights from MSTRKRFT's Fist of God

Kidding, kidding. But really, as some of you may have noticed, SendSpace conveniently deleted the file for "Bounce" within about 12 hours of my posting it due to a "terms of service violation." Not that this bothers me, of course, seeing as how I am a shameless scofflaw with no moral center. I just thought I should apologize to you folks for posting an mp3 of a song that was released as a single from an album which had its physical release over a month ago. I can be so damn cold like that sometimes.

This Week: 70s Prog-Folk


(Apparently Mutton Chops Guy has a brother. Who knew?)

So the solution, then, is to choose a theme that no one cares about. I'm not even sure I care about 70s prog-folk. I kid once again, of course: me and this subgenre go way back; we're homies. I blame my father. For a lot of things, but this especially. Celtic folk is, like, his main style, and for years I have been guilty of sneaking off with his CDs and LPs. I thought, since the indie scene seems to be undergoing both a prog and folk revival (it's little wonder The Decemberists are just about the only "crazy kid" band el padre will listen to), that we might once again turn to the past and explore some roots. There's some great stuff to be had, so enjoy.

Jethro Tull - "Rover" (mp3|3.91MB)
Yeah, that Jethro Tull. No kidding. For stalwart fans of the band, this must've seemed like a radical change of direction. After releasing several albums of more or less total crap, Ian Anderson & co. returned in 1978 with a delightful little album called Heavy Horses that basically eschewed all of the band's bombastic "hey let's write 45-minute songs, guys!" ambitions for a bunch of humble, well-written folk ditties. And to tell you the truth, despite really liking their early 70s stuff (Aqualung and the still OMG-worthy Thick as a Brick are two of my favorite albums ever), I'd say "Rover" is actually a pretty easy shoe-in for my top five Tull songs. It's lightweight, melodic, well-written, stripped of needless complexity, totally charming. Anderson never really lost the ability to write stuff like this; it's just that, after about '73 or so, he simply started using that talent less frequently. And that's a shame. By all means, stuff like Heavy Horses should be the rule, not the exception. But at least it exists, and that's something.
(from the 1978 album Heavy Horses)

Renaissance - "Black Flame" (mp3|5.90MB)
All right, I admit that this whole entry was more or less just a prop so that I could post "Black Flame." It is without a doubt one of the loveliest songs of its respective era, and since day one its inclusion somewhere in the Sunday Superlative has been somewhat mandatory. Renaissance is likely the best 70s band no one has ever heard of: by consistently balancing mood and beauty with Annie Haslam's powerful, soaring voice, they created a brand of folk-rock that was both inherently familiar and yet unmistakably unique. Though they had many excellent tracks (see also: "The Vultures Fly High" and "Ocean Gypsy," if you're interested), "Black Flame" will always and forever remain their crowning achievement in my eyes. All the eeriness and atmosphere, all the intriguing lyrical turns of phrase and songwriting chops, all the enthusiasm and passion the band possessed comes to fruition over the course of these six and a half minutes. It's just damn gorgeous. (Apparently a long, long, long time ago they came to Albuquerque and my dad saw them live. Even my inner snotty indie kid can't deny how cool that must've been.)
(from the 1974 album Turn of the Cards)

Steeleye Span - "Alison Gross" (mp3|4.89MB)
Here's the deal with Steeleye Span: they take traditional Celtic folk songs and painstakingly update them with modern elements, like electric guitars and such. In the wrong hands, this could easily be an embarrassing trainwreck of an idea. Luckily for us, these guys seriously know what they're doing. If you're like me and only have a modest knowledge of traditional Celtic folk, you'll listen and find it hard to believe that this here "Alison Gross" song isn't an original. It sounds traditional, but it's so slickly rewritten that it comes across as more of a keenly executed homage than an adaptation (high praise indeed, and this is commonplace for these guys: I had a hard time deciding which song to include, but this narrowly beat out "Boys of Bedlam" and "Black Jack Davy"). By virtue of being both addictive and amazingly inventive, it's utterly suited for inclusion in the prog-folk movement. Plus, it has a completely pointless but kinda hilarious noise explosion at the end, so make sure to stick around for that.
(from the 1973 album Parcel of Rogues)

Okay! I'll see you folks next week. Take care, drive safe, and always talk to strangers.

By all means, send lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative in a self-addressed, stamped envelope to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Though I have yet to receive one, requests are always welcome and entirely open to consideration.

the sunday superlative - 4/12/09

This Week: EASTER RAVE



Do I seriously need to introduce this? IT'S EASTER. IT'S A JOYOUS CELEBRATION. THIS CALLS FOR SOME SERIOUS ELECTRONICA.

Does It Offend You, Yeah? - "We Are Rockstars" (mp3|5.30MB)
Erase from your memory the recent usage of parts of this song in the horrible-looking Fast and Furious trailers and just focus, if you will, on how remarkably well constructed it is: it's roughly 2/3 aggro-electro breakdown and 1/3 unexpected (and therefore highly effective) melodic, vocals-laden change-up. The result is a pounding dance song with a heart of solid gold to which I can safely respond that, no, it does not offend me one bit.
(from the 2008 album You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into)

Justice - "D.A.N.C.E." (mp3|5.34MB)
Oh, right. Like I was going to post that picture and then not include this song. I remember when this song came out. I bet you do too. However, I don't think either of us could have fully predicted the extent to which this would become an instant classic. But there you go. The Zeitgeist is as unpredictable as it is powerful, and its impact has rendered this little gem ubiquitous at pretty much every dance party since; hence, its presence here. That, and the fact that I kind of like it a lot.
(from the 2007 album †)

MSTRKRFT - "Bounce" [feat. N.O.R.E. & Isis] (mp3|6.87MB)
Somewhere during MSTRKRFT's mind-altering DJ set (no, really; at an undetermined point during four solid hours of continuous, loud-as-fuck dance music, your brain just kind of naturally drifts into a surreal other world), they played this. Trust me: there is nothing more effective than bearing witness to a couple hundred twentysomethings (yourself included) bouncin' low, bouncin' high to gleefully hedonistic lyrics like "All I do is party -- ha! ha! ha! ha!" in convincing you that you have discovered the ultimate party anthem of 2009.
(from the 2009 album Fist of God)

Pure Reason Revolution - "Deus Ex Machina" (mp3|9.91MB)
I can admit with some ease that this is my favorite song (thus far, at least) of the still-young, but already incredibly fine year at hand. I've heard some amazing stuff, but nothing even comes close to touching this. What Pure Reason Revolution have provided here is a music geek's paradise: a relentless, endlessly energetic and inventive industrial/prog-metal hybrid with tremendous, literary lyrics (unless references to Ezekiel's vision from the cherubim are commonplace and I've just been missing them) and a scrupulous attention to listenability and musicality. While its grind is certainly militant, the amount of thought put into the melodies, vocal harmonies, and structure is so unmistakably steeped in precision and meticulousness that it's clear these guys aren't just trying to rock out. They want to make you think and conjure a little emotion, too. It's an amazing achievement.
(from the 2009 album Amor Vincit Omnia)

Vitalic - "Newman" (mp3|6.65MB)
I confess my guilt in driving down Albuquerque surface roads at more than twice the legal speed limit while listening to this song. My faithful Denny's-hopping co-DJ can back me up on this; she was there. But how could you not? The entirety of OK Cowboy pulses with such a forceful intensity that maximum speed is less an option than a requirement. To that degree, "Newman" is a standout among standouts. It rocks hard, it rocks fast, and it's one of the best songs of its kind I can think of.
(from the 2005 album OK Cowboy)

Marshmallow peeps and jelly beans have been courteously provided on the side tables. Enjoy, party hearty, and I'll catch you folks in another seven days!

As before, send lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Requests are always considered and welcomed. See you next week!

the sunday superlative - 4/5/09

This Week: Does That Make Me Crazy? (Probably.)


Apparently my original, clever, and entirely hilarious "insane shine" picture has disappeared, never to be found. In its place, enjoy this amazingly creepy picture of a piece of toast.
There are few topics as universal as insanity. It's a subject as old as the human race itself (at least I hope so -- can you imagine how boring the world would be if it were populated by nothing but sane people?). As a result, there have been lots of bands that have written songs about it. Some, naturally, are more famous than others. For both your reading/listening pleasure and my writing/DJing pleasure, I've elected to go down the proverbial road less traveled and pick three that might not be immediately obvious to everyone. (I mean, yeah, sure, I could've used the easy way out with Metallica or Black Sabbath and then just taken the rest of the day off, but as good as "Sanitarium" and "Paranoid" may be song-wise, it just not as much fun for either of us.) Even still, there were tons to choose from.

So, as Prince once said, "Let's go crazy!"

The Avalanches - "Frontier Psychiatrist" (mp3|6.60MB)
The Avalanches are the epitome of cool. Their first (and, to-date, only) album Since I Left You is probably the finest example of sampling I've stumbled across: not one original note was played for its making, but somehow these guys managed to glue together thousands of pre-existing clips in a way that is captivating, chilled-out, and wholly listenable. The disc flows all the way through, and I've always likened its effect to wandering from room to room at some lush, high-scale cocktail party. Its best song, to the extent that the individual tracks can be separated at all, is probably "Frontier Psychiatrist." It uses the same approach present elsewhere on the album, but here the samples seem to fall together with a grace that's almost serendipitous. It's catchy, it's funny, it's addictive, and it has one hell of an awesome music video. What's not to like?
(from the 2001 album Since I Left You)

Peter Gabriel - "Family Snapshot" (mp3|4.05MB)
Ask either Lea or myself, we'll tell you the same thing: Peter Gabriel's third solo album is a masterpiece (it has one of the best album covers ever, too). In some sense, almost every single song is a meditation on instability of some sort (lack of inhibition, amnesia, stalking/voyeurism), and while years of listening to the album have never given me a definitive answer as to which is the best of these, the relatively calm and meditative "Family Snapshot" is almost undoubtedly near the top of the list. The subject, despite its psychological complexity, is alarmingly straightforward: a man resolves to get the attention he was never given as a child by assassinating the president. There are a million ways Gabriel could have handled this idea, through various degrees of good and bad taste, but I think he hits the perfect notes of desperation and sadness. Even though what he's doing is terrible, you feel for the guy ("I want to be somebody / You were like that too / If you don't get given you learn to take / And I will take you"). With just the right touch of humanity, Gabriel turns a risky subject into one of his best songs ever. Sometimes that's all it takes.
(from the 1980 album Peter Gabriel III)

Pink Floyd - "Jugband Blues" (mp3|4.04MB)
In all honesty, this has got to be one of the most depressing songs I've ever heard. Before you go jumping on me for choosing a Pink Floyd song despite actively trying to avoid obviousness, let me explain: all of the band's more famous ruminations on madness were written in the 70s by Roger Waters. "Jugband Blues," on the other hand, was penned by original frontman Syd Barrett, who -- for those not up on their Floyd history -- basically took too much acid and lost his mind. Despite almost inarguably being a genius (The Piper at the Gates of Dawn is one of the best psychedelic albums ever), the band eventually fired him for being too erratic; he recorded a couple batshit fuckin' weird solo albums (The Madcap Laughs is the best of these), then went into complete seclusion until his death in 2006. "Jugband Blues" was his last-ever contribution to the Floyd. Written during a rare lucid moment, it's an honest realization of losing it completely. Even despite this, Barrett wasn't mentally capable of finishing the song; to rectify, he hired a jugband to come into the studio and improvise a midsection. The finished product is perhaps unintentionally devastating, but devastating nonetheless. Plenty of bands -- later Floyd included -- can write about insanity, but few have been there in the way Mr. Barrett was. Shine on, you crazy diamond.
(from the 1968 album A Saucerful of Secrets)

Okay, so maybe that wasn't exactly a brighter and more cheerful entry than last week's emotional catharsis, but hey. You've gotta take one for the team from time to time. If all goes according to plan, I'll see you next week for Easter. Maybe I'll do an entry on, I dunno, candy or bunnies or something.

For the first time, I invite you to send lovemail/hatemail/anymail related to the Sunday Superlative to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. Requests are always considered and welcomed. See you next week!

the sunday superlative - 3/29/09

This Week: Catharsis!



Everyone hits rough patches. It's all part of life's rich pageant. One of the most miraculous things that music can do for a person is provide an outlet for all of those negative emotions. Sometimes it may take a while to find the right outlet, that one song that just does it for you, but rest assured when that happens that the song will immediately become part of you and never leave.

Such is the way of these three songs, each of which has stood the test of time (my history with all of these dates back to middle school, and I haven't lost an ounce of love for any of them) and have snugly found their place among my favorite songs ever. In other words, yeah, this is probably the most "legit" Sunday Superlative post in a long time, in that it really is showcasing what I believe is some of the most exemplary, powerful music I have heard. Of course, everyone is different and I can't guarantee that anyone else will find these as deeply cathartic as I do. I could never stop you from trying, though.

The Cure - "Disintegration" (mp3|7.63MB)
For those of you who may not have gotten the memo, The Cure's Disintegration is far and away, without question, my favorite album of all-time. There's no competition. What they accomplish with those 72 minutes is gorgeous, shattering, and utterly perfect. And yet, as tremendous as every song is, not a single one has ever been as viscerally powerful for me as the title track. Extremely few songs can lay claim to having brought me to tears. Even fewer can boast of having that effect on me pretty much every single time (in fact, we may have just narrowed it down to this song). The secret ingredient is a mystery even to me: it's eight solid minutes of swirling, drone-dance hell with Robert Smith wailing some of his most painfully personal lyrics ever, and somehow it just works (the closest analogy I can think of is Of Montreal's similarly wonderful "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal," on which this must've been a huge influence). More than that: it transcends. It becomes by some force of nature a receptacle for all of the misery and depression and suffering in the world, and in the process emerges as one of the most powerful pieces of music ever set to tape.
(from the 1989 album Disintegration)

Nine Inch Nails - "Mr. Self Destruct" (mp3|4.12MB)
Trent Reznor has always been very hit-or-miss with me. Some of his songs are great, while others just seem to miss the mark entirely. When he hits, though, he has the power to hit hard. "Mr. Self Destruct" is an exceedingly abrasive song, and I have no doubt that's what gives it such an overpowering force. When I am inhumanly, furiously mad, there is no greater song in the universe. It strikes all the perfect nerves: Reznor's bitterly antagonistic lyrics, the frenetic, chugging rhythm that gets punctuated with bursts of vicious screaming and noise, the eerie and murderously calm eye of the hurricane wherein you're still pissed as fuck and want to kill something but are disturbingly relaxed about it. By all accounts, it is an anger spell in musical form. It is the only song I can think of that has ever managed to capture every nuance of that particular emotion, and for that I cannot give it enough credit. No, this isn't the sort of thing I can freely listen to at any time (or even often), but when I can it's nothing short of sublime.
(from the 1994 album The Downward Spiral)

Tears for Fears - "Shout" (mp3|5.96MB)
Tears for Fears' place in the grand scheme of rock music is not something that should ever be underestimated. No, they never made a great album, and yes, their output worthy of "required listening" can pretty easily be consolidated into a list of about a half-dozen songs, but ... have you heard those songs?! They're better than not only the majority of 80s pop music, but the majority of music in general. "Shout" is a fine example. Of their myriad hits, this is probably the most famous and recognizable, but it possesses a startling power that is conspicuously absent from almost all other mainstream music. It's an angry song, but it doesn't express that anger with screaming and waves of corrosive noise like plenty of others -- Mr. Reznor included -- would. Instead, it opts for a steady, gradual crescendo that begins as relatively composed and ends almost like some great war cry. When that searing guitar comes in at around 4:30, I just want to raise my fists to the sky and do exactly what the song tells me to. Maximum volume required.
(from the 1985 album Songs from the Big Chair)

The end! I'll try my hardest to be back next week, possibly with something a little cheerier. We'll see. Take care, folks.

the sunday superlative - 3/1/09

This Week: Good Songs by Terrible Bands: 2000s FM Rock Edition



I suppose this entry could also easily be subtitled Guilty Pleasures, because it's true: I like these songs quite a bit, but if you listen closely you can hear a small part of me die every time I admit it. The truth stands, though. I, the snotty and fairly unflappable indie kid, also occasionally listen to the radio, and sometimes I even enjoy it. Most of the time I'm appalled by the collective taste of contemporary mainstream America, but from time to time even the most appalling of bands manages to get it right.

So that's tonight's showcase. I'm sure you've heard of all three of these bands. They share two things in common: (1) they're all pretty huge right now; (2) they're uniformly terrible. I would never, ever purchase an album by any of these guys. The point I'm making, though, is that talent (or perhaps luck) can be found in even the most unlikely places. All three of these songs are quite good. I'd never condone listening to the remainder of their output, but even I must admit to sneaking a bite or two of these songs every once in a while.

Fall Out Boy - "Thanks for the Memories" (mp3|6.03MB)
Ever since I discovered and fell head over heels in love with Brand New (whose indescribably fantastic The Devil and God... I practically have memorized by now), I have a hard time discounting the entire musical umbrella known unfavorably as "emo." But let's face it: the vast, vast majority of it really sucks a big one. No "emo" band has enjoyed the same degree of mainstream success as Fall Out Boy, and I guess one could reasonably argue that none are as deserving (since they're all offensively generic enough as to be interchangable). But ugh, I can't stand them. These guys were the shit in high school, and I guess they continue to be. I don't care for their image, I don't like their obviously put-on emotional turmoil, I don't think Pete Wentz is omg hott, and my hair reflexively stands on end every time I hear their music. And that's why I perhaps unfairly regard the catchy and unmistakably homoerotic "Thanks for the Memories" as something of a fluke. It's a well-written song and I enjoy it more than I care to admit, but I'm just left with that nagging feeling that even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day.
(from the 2007 album Infinity on High)

Maroon 5 - "Makes Me Wonder" (mp3|4.83MB)
My apologies in advance, but whenever I think of the singer of Maroon 5, I think of Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight: "What happened? Jer balls drop off?!" The man is one hormone injection away from sounding like Sheryl Crow. But in 2007, against all odds, he and his band miraculously managed to turn this into a good thing for three and a half minutes and deliver "Makes Me Wonder," which may well have been my favorite mainstream track of that particular year. I don't know what magic drug these guys took, but they embody that cocky white-boy funk thing so perfectly that Justin Timberlake might as well just throw away the latter half of his career (he can start by throwing away the first half, too). This is a frightening song. Absolutely terrifying. It has no right to be this damn good. But it's really, really quality.
(from the retardedly titled 2007 album It Won't Be Soon Before Long)

3 Doors Down - "Kryptonite" (mp3|5.37MB)
I remember when this song came out. I was in 6th grade. I even liked it then. This either means my taste hasn't improved, or this song is actually pretty good. Despite the answer I would lean towards, the band apparently favors the latter option, since they've spent the past decade trying -- and failing -- to rewrite it. Really, they should've just broken up. All of their songs sound exactly the same, like a second-rate 3 Doors Down tribute band (jesus god almighty) trying to one-up the only good song they ever had. Trust me, that's not a good place to be. But hey, at least this "Kryptonite" ditty is pretty good. I mean, it's not like "Stairway to Heaven" or anything, but in a loud mindless alt-rock sort of way, I find it pretty satisfying.
(from the 2000 album The Better Life)

Catch you folks later!

the sunday superlative - 2/15/09

This Week: Lea Stole My Theme



It's true. She did. I was going to go the sappy love song route, too, but she got there before me. I can't really complain, though: the Valentine's Day thing was out there just waiting to be capitalized upon. And it's not like there aren't, like, seven million sappy love songs I could've chosen from that wouldn't have overlapped the five she chose.

But let's face it. Two posts in a row with the same theme is boring. So I, thinking on my feet, decided to shake things up a bit and go for the diametric opposite.

This Week: Stalker Anthems

There are more of these than you realize. It really wasn't difficult finding three to throw in here. (Well, okay, four. "Gallery Piece" wasn't on the original lineup, but ... sorry, yeah, I had to.) And most impressively, I'll have you note, none of them are "Every Breath You Take." Because seriously, everyone's heard that one. It's the classic stalker anthem of all-time, and a great song, but really. I'd blogcast Kevin Barnes over Sting any day. I know he'd do the same for me. Plus lots of other things I will not go into.

Sarah McLachlan - "Possession" (mp3|4.26MB)
Chicks can be stalkers too. (This is the kind of statement I like to build up to by giving examples of male stalkerism first, but Ms. McLachlan's name unfortunately comes first alphabetically, so now I just look like a douche.) I must admit, however, that if in addition to stalking me they could also bust out the instruments and play a song as lovely as "Possession," I'd probably be sold. Too bad, with my luck, I'd probably end up getting stalked by, like, Bjork instead. But yeah: Sarah McLachlan seriously makes stalking sound completely un-creepy and even vaguely pleasurable. For both parties. It's a gorgeous song. They even play it on the radio sometimes, if you can believe that.
(from the 1993 album Fumbling Towards Ecstacy)

The National - "Brainy" (mp3|4.53MB)
This song is deceptive, you see, because it takes you completely by surprise. All of The National's songs sound fundamentally similar, so -- at least in the context of Boxer (a fine album, by the way, but you knew this) -- you're expecting "Brainy" to be another late-night urban lament just like its on-album predecessors "Fake Empire" and "Mistaken for Strangers." But it's not. Listen to what he's singing. That shit about the fingerprints? That's disturbing as hell. I bet you didn't realize such a soft-spoken, lovely song could be so unnerving. But it can. And trust me, you'll never listen to it the same way again.
(from the 2007 album Boxer)

Of Montreal - "Gallery Piece" (mp3|5.42MB)
No doubt the textbook example of pathological romantic obsession in modern pop music. I can't decide whether it's creepy or hilarious. Considering this man is singing it, maybe the answer is evident.
(from the 2008 album Skeletal Lamping)

Porcupine Tree - "Blackest Eyes" (mp3|6.03MB)
When people go nuts for Porcupine Tree, this is why. I like them. I think they're a good band. But man, they can be ridiculously overrated by some people. "Blackest Eyes" reassures me for four minutes that, yes indeed, there is something to all this giant praise. For one thing, it features just about the most seamless and wholly appropriate integration of metal influences into a straightforward pop structure I can think of. It's a song about a stalker/serial killer, right, so it makes sense that he's going to be pleasant and charismatic one moment, and violently off-the-rails the next. The music mirrors this to perfection, and the result is both intense and unforgettable. If all their songs were this good, they really would be the best band in the world.
(from the 2002 album In Absentia)

'Til next week! Yes, I'll be here. I promise. Stop following me.

the sunday superlative - 2/8/09

This Week: Harmonica Highlights



Ladies and gentlemen, it's time we faced a sad fact that has been plaguing the musical world for quite some time: there is not equality among instruments. Not all are held in the same esteem, not all are regarded with the same amount of reverence. Oh sure, you've got your almighty guitar and your keyboards and bass and hifalutin drums, but what about the so-called "lesser" instruments? What has happened to them?

I'll come to the point: the harmonica gets a bad rap. In the social hierarchy of musical instruments, it's one step above the kazoo. And while many people will stick to their guns and continue hating it, I insist that it is merely misunderstood. Well, tonight all this is going to stop. I have brought out three songs (Lea roughed me up in the gym and told me that if I exceeded my limits again, I would pay in what she calls "moderately important body parts"; she also took my lunch money) that not only accentuate the harmonica's importance within the structure of a popular song, but in some cases suggest that it may even be an integral element.

We start with an obvious choice.

Culture Club - "Karma Chameleon" (mp3|3.90MB)
I fully expect this to get zero downloads (yes, I do monitor this, so if you ever want to make me feel REALLY good about myself, download something twice). Not because it's bad or because you know all about Thing George and his old band, but because you have it already. Come on. Let's face it. You love this song. You love everything about it. You love how catchy it is. You love how rebellious you feel when you dance to it while no one's around. And, most of all, you love that damn harmonica.
(from the 1983 album Colour By Numbers)

Doves - "Rise" (mp3|5.13MB)
2009 is, at least in conventional numeric terms, the end of a decade (yeah yeah there was no year zero stfu). This means that, come December, I -- the compulsive listmaker -- will be faced with the unenviable task of ranking my favorite songs of the decade. Luckily for me, the job has been made 1/25 easier, because I'd say there's a very strong chance Doves' gorgeous, ethereal "Rise" will find its way onto the list somewhere. Maybe it's just the fact that the first time I ever heard it was on a lonely summer night back in '07, but this more than any other song I can think of perfectly captures that lonely summer night feeling. It's haunting, it's lovely, and it has one of the most legitimately tasteful harmonica solos I have ever heard. Seriously, the harmonica elevates the song; it would certainly not be as good without it. The solo is so perfectly placed, so seamlessly integrated, that I honestly didn't even hear it the first few times. It's just a necessary extension of the music. It's an asset. "Rise" singlehandedly makes the case for the harmonica as an acceptable musical entity. And, yeah, it's also a fantastic song.
(from the 2000 album Lost Souls)

Bob Dylan - "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" (mp3|15.57MB)
Ah, but of course. Mr. Zimmerman is the king of the harmonica. I had to include him. But he gets a bad rap, too. Sure, he's an icon and all that, but I get the feeling these days that he's more iconic for being "that batshit son of a bitch" than for being a true musician. True, he probably is insane; and yes, he does have the most distinctive (read: highly irritating -- yes, even I think so) voice ever put to tape. But that doesn't mean he wasn't a prodigious talent in his time. "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands," while not among his super-famous songs, may be the finest thing he ever wrote. Written for his wife, it's a love ballad that quite simply puts most other love ballads to shame. And if you think it's too long, that it drags, that he should've somehow edited it down: I'm sorry, but you're wrong. It's just so good.
(from the 1966 album Blonde on Blonde)

(If you really want a fourth song, though, check out The Beatles' "I Should Have Known Better." I'm sure it's in your personal library already. Anything by the Fab Four is wonderful, of course, and it's also one-fourth the length of "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands." So there.)

... aaaaand I'll see you folks next week!

the sunday superlative - 2/1/09

This Week: Super Bowl Halftime: Alternate Programming



I don't know if you knew this, but the Super Bowl is today. I know! Crazy, right? I just found out, too. Naturally, this entails Super Bowl-ish things: millions of flickering TV screens, almost as many parties, countless bowls overflowing with Doritos, and -- of course -- the reason why everyone tunes in in the first place: the fast-paced excitement, the adrenaline-pumping promise of physical injury as a devotion to one's craft, that slow-motion moment when it appears if only for a fleeting instant that all of your dreams for the evening may come true.

I am, of course, referring to the halftime show. At least, most years. But let's face it, folks: I disapprove this year. I'm not the biggest fan of The Boss. Yeah, sure, maybe he was born to run in the U.S.A. (in which case, why doesn't he take the field like a man?), but that's boring. More than likely, people are going to get up, stretch out, and leave the room.

So I envisioned a "what if?" scenario. What if I had been allowed to schedule the halftime show? How would I have filled those fifteen minutes? Well, may you wonder no more. By the powers vested in me, the following four songs (yes, I did four again -- maybe one of these weeks I'll learn my limits) would be performed by their respective artists in this order. I tend to be a modest guy, but I hasten to state that I am positive that, were this reality, America would not only stay firmly rooted in front of their TVs, but it would be far and away the most memorable and perhaps enjoyable stretch of the entire evening. So take heed, 2010 Super Bowl programmers. I would not mislead you.

Electric Six - "Dance Commander" (mp3|3.59MB)
Ours is a festive culture. We love to party, and dancing is in our blood. However, we're also hard workers: we earn our lazy Sunday evenings kicking back with friends, popping a beer, and watching the game. From my experience, once you're on the couch, you're on the couch. This is exactly why the halftime show is a perfect venue for the dance commander. Sometimes a person can't merely be talked into embracing his or her inherent dancing nature; sometimes, dammit, they just need to be commanded. Halftime is not an opportunity to get up, piss, stretch out, or get more hot wings; it's a time to bust a move. Were this to happen, I'd second the words of Dick Valentine to a tee: IT WOULD BE AWESOME.

Kelly - "Shoes" (mp3|2.53MB)
It's really just baby steps from Carrie Underwood to this. Let's not forget that women watch the Super Bowl, too, and that this enthusiastic endorsement of red-white-and-blue feminine consumerism would be heartily welcomed. Its accompanying YouTube video has spent two and a half years with "instant classic" status attached to it; this internet popularity is, if anything, the perfect signifier for a warm reception at the greatest of all American sporting events.

Styx - "Mr. Roboto" (mp3|4.36MB)
There's something undeniably beguiling about imagining this song being performed in front of millions upon millions of viewers. Seriously, imagine it as you listen. You'll see what I mean.

Team America OST - "America, Fuck Yeah" (mp3|1.93MB)
Super Bowl programmers are always looking for the ideal candidate to whip the crowd into a huge, patriotic frenzy. Why else would they book Bruce Springsteen? Well, I'll tell you what: no song in the past five years has made me feel as patriotic or as proud to be an American as Trey Parker's exuberant declaration of United States awesomeness. It's the sort of song so infectious, so utterly inspiring, that you not only find yourself shouting along with it immediately, but actually adding to it once it's over. While driving, for instance: "Subway; FUCK YEAH! Walgreens; FUCK YEAH! Stop light; FUCK YEAH!" It just makes you so damn happy to be alive in America in the 21st century, and I think more people need the feeling bestowed upon them.

See you next time, folks. Have fun tonight! I know I will. Probably bust out a favorite film or something.

the sunday superlative - 1/25/09

This Week: 2008's Overlooked Gems



Damn, I suck. It has been since November 30 that the last Sunday Superlative was posted here. You do realize this was two months, one calendar year, one U.S. president, and approximately 9,000 I-just-wet-myself reviews of Merriweather Post Pavilion ago. Time flies. In fact, the only thing greater in magnitude than the speed at which time flies is the degree to which I suck. This, sadly, is an irreversible condition. However, I can make amends for it, so that's what I'm hoping this post is going to do.

Inevitably, every year there are songs and bands that fall through the cracks. Damn good songs and damn good bands. Who knows why it happens? It just does. Especially in the digital age, there are so many bands making so much music that it's frankly a miracle that everyone doesn't get lost in the shuffle (though you wish some would, oh hi Deerhunter). This is my valiant attempt to highlight three of my favorite nobody-heard-this songs from 2008. While all you cool kids were off groovin' to Tha Carter III (or whatever it is you do with that album), I was checking out this good stuff. Enjoy.

The Lucksmiths - "Lament of the Chiming Wedgebill" (mp3|3.49MB)
In a word, beautiful. In two words, damn beautiful. I stand by my original comparison: it's like an Australian Outback version of The Decemberists' "Yankee Bayonet," with some swoon-worthy male/female vocal harmonies and a jangly guitar/harmonica interplay that sounds, indeed, like nothing short of a lamentation. But what a pretty, desolate, desert-tainted mournfulness it is. My only complaint is that the rest of First Frost didn't sound anything like this. Whereas the remainder was mostly generic, unremarkable guitar pop, this is something much greater. This is lovely. This is one that, if I don't watch it, I'll find myself listening to over and over again.

Pitchblend - "Somewhere I Could Never Find" (mp3|6.55MB)
Pitchblend have tapped into an interesting sound. They have, for my money, found the perfect combination of two seemingly incompatible styles: that dynamic Explosions in the Sky/Mogwai-ish post-rock and that emo-pop stuff you hear on the radio and don't like (not that I do, either). Evidently, they work a whole lot better together than I ever would have thought. The tuneful noisiness of the post-rock actually more or less nullifies the latter (I think it's mostly the guy's pretty standard-issue alternative-rock voice that leads me to the radio-pop label, actually) and the result is a very good song indeed. It's atmospheric, catchy, rockin', and even decently passionate. I freely admit it was in heavy rotation on my playlist last summer. Perhaps you can do it the same favor for the coming spring.

Uh Huh Her - "Covered" (mp3|5.39MB)
All I need to say is "chicks doing super catchy, melodic, energetic electro-pop" and this is already better than a good majority of that new Tilly and the Wall album. Actually, most of Common Reaction is enjoyable in that "this is probably guilty pleasure, but ... yeah, don't give a shit" sort of way, but "Covered" is definitely the standout. It's a pop song. It doesn't try to be anything else. It wants to get you to tap your toes and hum along and enjoy yourself. It successfully gets me to do all three every time I hear it. At the end of the day, could I really ask for more? If I did, I'd almost certainly be missing the point.

And that's all, fol--fuck it. I haven't done this in two months. I can be afforded one bonus song. Let's do it.

Chauchat - "Murdering Chair" (mp3|7.12MB)
This falls somewhere in between Neutral Milk Hotel (one of the best indie bands ever, and you damn well better agree) and Bright Eyes (who's good on the days he doesn't suck, which seem to be chosen at random). I can't pinpoint exactly where. It's certainly much more heavily weighted towards the "good" end of both (why would I include it otherwise?), and seems a fine example of how a straightforward acoustic ballad can skillfully build into a noisy, cacophonous lo-fi jam session (once again: NMH and Bright Eyes). I like it quite a bit.

And NOW I'm done. I'll try to be back next week, I promise. I realize that "weekly" does, in fact, mean "every week." Don't hold me to it or anything, but damned if I won't try.

the sunday superlative - 11/30/08

This Week: Old School Prog-Rock



We all need to start somewhere. For me, it all began with prog-rock. 7th grade. 2002. That was the moment when I finally stepped back and started exploring stuff that interested me. Yes. I was the kid who, at that tender young age, was rockin' to GENESIS and ELP and VAN DER GRAAF GENERATOR and all those hip dudes. I was a tremendous dork.

But prog-rock is an incredibly dorky genre. In fact, if we're talking superlatives (and clearly we are), it is likely the dorkiest genre. That's because the people who were in prog bands were dorks. They were the kids who always got an A+ for being different, going above and beyond, and doing something creative; the music they all ultimately went on to make carries the exact same qualities. Why settle for a four-minute pop song when you can write an eight-minute one with several movements and highly literary lyrics? Or why not just fill up an entire vinyl side with one song! Or, in Jethro Tull's case, actually fill up both sides of a vinyl with one song! HELLZ. YEAH.

So it's a dorky genre. But don't be so quick to judge, all you cool indie hipster kids. Hold your horses. With each passing month, it becomes more and more clear just how influential these old-school proggers were on the bands we know and love today. In fact, it seems like prog has made somewhat of a full-fledged comeback as of late. Predictably, nothing makes me happier.

So let's check out a few choice old-school prog-rock cuts. This is the stuff entire musical foundations are built on. And I would know.

Genesis - "Dancing With the Moonlit Knight" (mp3|5.55MB)
I know. A shocker, right? Guess what: before Genesis was a big 80s pop band led by Phil Collins, they were a smaller 70s prog-rock band led by one of my musical heroes, Mr. Peter Gabriel. Fewer people know this than should (and the distinction always calls to mind that unforgettable quote from Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho), but it's true. And while 80s Genesis is somewhat of a guilty pleasure, there's no guilt in this earlier stuff. It's damn good, and it's really not much of a stretch to say that -- from roughly 1971 to 1974 -- Genesis was the best prog-rock band on the planet. "Dancing With the Moonlit Knight" may be the single best song the band ever put to tape. At the very least, it's always been one of my huge favorites. It's deliriously complex, every member gets a little chance to shine, and somehow it all fits together beautifully. I love that ethereal "aaaah!" that comes in around 3:45. Love it.
(from the 1973 album Selling England by the Pound)

King Crimson - "Epitaph" (mp3|8.10MB)
More or less, this is where it all started. Of course there were disparate catalysts leading up to this (The Who Sell Out, Days of Future Passed, Sgt. Pepper even), but the true birth of prog-rock is generally pinpointed with the release of King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King. Iconic cover art notwithstanding, I can see why it left an impression. Forty years later, it's still as thrilling and as challenging as anything on record store shelves. There's always been debate over which of the five songs is the best, but I've always been partial to the yearning, minor-key "Epitaph," which may well have been the song that got me into this kind of music. The chronology is a bit fuzzy at this point, but I remember in 7th grade I heard my dad listening to this album; this song just blew me away. I promptly stole the album from him and fell in love with the whole thing on my own terms. The rest is history.
(from the 1969 album In the Court of the Crimson King)

Yes - "Siberian Khatru" (mp3|12.38MB)
I was never the biggest Yes fan. When a band is viewed as indulgent and pretentious even within the context of the most indulgent and pretentious rock genre of all-time, you know there's issues. But nonetheless, their influence is undeniable, and -- like it or not -- their '72 album Close to the Edge is something of a masterpiece. "Siberian Khatru" is both the highlight of that particular record (its shortest song, lol), and for my money the best-ever Yes track. I didn't know such a thing as "psychedelic funk" existed in 1972 (maybe they created it, who knows), but for lack of a better term, that's what this is. But it's thrilling stuff. Indulgent or no, these guys always had a keen ear for melody, and they latch onto several here that they manage to seamlessly weave in and out of each other for nine minutes without ever having it get the least bit boring. And it's fun. Prog-rock can be fun, kids. Yes! Yes!
(from the 1972 album Close to the Edge)

And if that's just not enough prog for you, I highly recommend trying the full albums for each. They're all incredibly rewarding listens.

See you all next week for more Sunday Superlativeness! Adios.

the sunday superlative - 11/23/08

First off, let's get this out of the way.



Today wasn't the best day ever. It wasn't horrible and I'm still alive and all, but a convenient series near-cataclysmic events has more or less stripped me of all energy for today. (For example, it is my professional duty on Sunday nights to close the bookstore I work at. Tonight as I was doing so, the store's database inventory program decided to screw shit up bad while self-reindexing. It shut itself down and refused to reopen due to "corrupted files." When you're afraid you've just lost your store's entire inventory -- the sum of all employees' work since 2003 -- you REALLY don't want the emergency hotline guy to say things to you like, "Hmm. Well, that's interesting" as he's walking you through a so-called recovery process. So, that happened. I eventually got everything up and running again, thank god, but it wasn't fun. At all. And then please understand that this wasn't the only not-good thing to happen to me today. So, yes.)

What I'm trying to say is, today's regularly-scheduled Sunday Superlative on old-school prog-rock is being postponed to next week. I evidently have enough energy to write this, but pounding out a whole "official" post seems a bit beyond my capabilities tonight.

But I will not leave you empty-handed, oh faithful reader. To reward your kindness and understanding, I have left you the following song. I know you'll see it my way. Enjoy, and I'll catch you folks next week!

Wesley Willis - Rock 'n' Roll McDonald's (mp3|2.23MB)

the sunday superlative - 11/16/08

This Week: Artist Spotlight: The Moody Blues.



I've been trying to figure out how to do this. Let's face it, we all have bands we like a whole lot more than others. As a direct result, these bands will produce more "omg favorite" songs. If I am going to remain true to the concept of the Sunday Superlative (and I am!) and stick to the whole "all-time favorite songs" thing, this issue must be addressed. Either I present a disproportionate amount of songs by a certain band or artist week by week, or I clump 'em all together. The solution has been reached. I'm clumping 'em all together. Or, in more poetic terms, I'm doing an Artist Spotlight.

The Moody Blues are my favorite band. At least, they're my favorite band insofar as someone who listens to as much music as I do can ever have a favorite. They were the band that got me into music, they were the first band I remember liking, and they are the only band I have seen in concert three times. They mean a lot to me. And I know they're not "cool" in the way that bands like The Beatles or The Who or Led Zeppelin are; in fact, they're the very epitome of uncool. But I don't care. I will defend them to the ends of the earth, because in my opinion they are responsible for some of the most sublimely beautiful pop music ever recorded. As far as I'm concerned, if you can write a gorgeous pop song, you've won my heart forever. In the case of The Moody Blues, they've been writing them inexhaustibly for forty years.

I have chosen for this blog my three all-time favorite Moodies songs, all of which are superb enough to be starred entries. If you've been around me long enough, chances are you've heard 'em. If not, give 'em a try. I can't guarantee you'll like 'em, though I've spent so many years in such deep love with them that I can scarcely see how disliking them could be possible, but I have a feeling you might. Just a hunch. (By the way, this isn't to say you'll never see these guys on this blog again. Oh no. There are definitely more favorites. Many more.)

*The Moody Blues - "Nights in White Satin" (mp3|7.00MB)
The Moodies' indisputable career best, and one of the pinnacles of recorded music. For my money, this song sits in constant rotation with about half a dozen others in competition for the title of Greatest Song Ever Written. And Justin Hayward was only 20 when he wrote it (so, uh, what have you done lately?). Also, any arguments against Hayward's position as one of rock music's finest vocalists can be laid to rest right here. Everything is perfect here. Everything. It's not a fantastic song; it's fucking earth-shattering.
(from the 1967 album Days of Future Passed)

*The Moody Blues - "The Voice" (mp3|4.92MB)
They didn't write rockers. Whenever they tried, they really just came out sounding like more uptempo pop songs. "The Voice" was the best of these. It doesn't rock at all, but man, it pops hard. It's catchy, energetic, and somehow it still manages to pack a melodic punch that blows 99% of its competition clear out of the water. I even hear this one on the radio from time to time, if you can believe that. The next time it happens, you'll know that the distant but intense glow is coming from me.
(from the 1981 album Long Distance Voyager)

*The Moody Blues - "Your Wildest Dreams" (mp3|4.44MB)
They never had a "big hit," per ce (other than "Go Now," which really isn't a very good song and was actually recorded by a completely different group of people than were responsible for what I consider the real Moody Blues), but I guess this was pretty successful for them back in the day. It should have been a hell of a lot bigger. This is yet another swoon-worthy creation, so overflowing with melancholic beauty that it's almost overwhelming. And it has one of my favorite lyrics ever: "When the music plays / When the words are touched with sorrow / When the music plays / I hear the sound I had to follow / Once upon a time." Indeed.
(from the 1986 album The Other Side of Life)

To reiterate: I really frigging love The Moody Blues. In case this was at all unclear.

Okay, I'm tired. It's been a long weekend, and it's going to be an even longer week. (No, really. Think about it.) I'll see you folks later!

the sunday superlative - 11/09/08

This Week: Gotcha Covered



In general, the mere concept of the cover version doesn't make much sense to me. (1) If it was good the first time, what makes a person believe they can make it even better? It's like covering "Stairway to Heaven" or something. Do you really think that's gonna get you very far? Really? (2) If it wasn't good the first time, why even bother redoing it? I don't think even the godliest of musicians could salvage Limp Bizkit's "Rollin'." Though I'd like to hear Spencer Krug or Colin Meloy try.

Okay, yeah, I'd really, really like to hear Spencer Krug or Colin Meloy try.

But! Some artists have done the nearly impossible and managed to produce cover versions of songs that not only do justice to their originals, but actually surpass them in terms of quality. Though there are a few others (can we see a Gotcha Covered, Pt. II in the future? Ooooh!), I've chosen three I'm quite partial to. Let's see what trouble we can get into.

Wow. Low bandwidth this week. So, really, you have no excuse for not indulging.

10,000 Maniacs - "Because the Night" (mp3|3.40MB)
It must be kind of weird for a band's biggest hit to be not only a cover, but a live cover. Does that happen? Like, how many live cuts in general end up on FM airwaves? It's fascinating. In the case of 10,000 Maniacs, though, I'm glad it happened, or else most of us would never have gotten to experience their beautiful take on Patti Smith's "Because the Night" (which, incidentally, was written by Springsteen, though I don't think The Boss ever recorded it himself). They haven't really done too much to the song itself: they've changed a few words, smoothed out the sound, and replaced Smith's gravel-pit pipes with Natalie Merchant's much more mellifluous contralto, but aside from that it's very much the same song. But it just seems to work better in these guys' hands. It's pretty. It's passionate. It's vaguely haunting. It almost makes me want to dive deeper into the Maniacs' catalogue except, you know, I really doubt it'd be as good.
(from the 1993 album MTV Unplugged)

Johnny Cash - "Ghost Riders in the Sky" (mp3|3.39MB)
Probably the best country song ever. And not just the song overall, but Johnny Cash's version of it. Man. "Ghost Riders in the Sky," a 1948 cowboy epic, deals with some dark lyrical themes to start with (I'm a fan of this pictorial representation), but leave it to Mr. Cash to step in and turn it into one sinister, brooding piece of music. It's almost intimidating in its power, which of course is what gives it such a shattering effect. I've never fully embraced Johnny Cash as a "country musician" in the way that, say, Garth Brooks or all those other multitudinous "mah dawg got run o'er by a semi 'n' mah girl left me fer mah bud"-type singers qualify (which is probably why I like him; can you tell I'm not the biggest cuuuuntry fan?), but this song certainly gives plenty evidence enough that, given the right combination of ingredients, even this genre can be turned into something stirring and unforgettable.
(from the 1979 album Silver)

Jimi Hendrix - "All Along the Watchtower" (mp3|3.67MB)
Forgive me for being so unoriginal, but it has to be mentioned, right? This is arguably the cover version of all-time, which has always been something I've found highly ironic. Jimi Hendrix is widely considered the greatest rock guitarist who ever lived, so it seems peculiar that his finest moment should be a rendition of a fairly obscure Bob Dylan song. Because yes, not only is "All Along the Watchtower" a fantastic re-imagining, it's also the best thing Hendrix ever put to tape in his short time on earth. His secret is, instead of merely copying Dylan (which would've been, uh, weird), he truly makes the song his own. Though Dylan's signature "drugged-out literate whacko" persona is missing, Hendrix injects the affair with a vibrancy completely alien to the original. The central guitar solo is still one of the most exciting and "cosmic" I've ever heard, and the whole thing just rocks. Not to mention Jimi had a much, much nicer voice. Much nicer.
(from the 1968 album Electric Ladyland)

All right. I'm tired. I'll catch you all later. Right now, though, I'm going to go slip under the covers.

And no, I'm so tired I can't honestly tell if the pun was intended or not. If it was funny, yes. If it wasn't, heck no.