Yet ANOTHER Top 100 (or so) Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50

#299) "Why Don't We Do it in the Road?" by The Beatles - In his 1980 Playboy interview, conducted shortly before his assassination, John Lennon lamented that whenever a radio station held a "Beatles weekend", the same 10 songs tended to get played, the familiar, radio-friendly hits that everyone in the family could sing along to - "Yesterday", "Penny Lane", "Love Me Do", "She Loves You", "Let it Be", et cetera - or something to that effect. And while that was fine as far as it went, he said, it left a lot of their material - their deep tracks - routinely overlooked.

Lennon didn't use the phrase "deep tracks", but his point was entirely valid. It might be a bit different today, with such easy, unlimited access to all music at any given moment, but I've still noticed - 50 years on - that when discussions are held about the Beatles' big contribution (to say the least) to popular music, songs like "Why Don't We Do it in the Road?", among others, still don't immediately get brought up, even though they should.  "I Want to Hold Your Hand", "Hard Days Night", "Eleanor Rigby", "Magical Mystery Tour", they're great, bona fide classics, more than deserving of being featured in Beatles weekends, retrospectives and anthologies.  But the Beatles are "The Beatles" for a reason; even their throwaways can hardly be considered throwaways. Their individual and collective musical talent made them masters at the manufacture of deep tracks. Every one of their albums has at least one or two, or more, hidden gems, and any Beatles fan will likely agree that the White Album could be considered a whole collection of brilliant deep tracks, not to mention the B side of Abbey Road. And of course, there's Sgt. Pepper...

I've always considered "Why Don't We Do it in the Road?", from the White Album, the quintessential deep track, and, as it must be recognized that in spite of the "Lennon-McCartney" label, they generally wrote their own music (this was no more true than on the White Album) - empirical evidence of Paul McCartney's astonishing artistic range. Think about it: the same guy who wrote and sang "Yesterday" also gave us this infectious, funny and sexy 1:41. Inspired by the sight of two monkeys copulating on a road when the Beatles were visiting the Maharishi in India, it's just fun to listen to. One of those songs you almost don't realize how good it is for all its simplicity. There's no takeaway here, no message, no changing the world, no coming together, it's more or less just a novelty song that happens to be superbly rendered. Not their greatest, but arguably one of their best.

There is a lighter (read: less infectious, funny and sexy) acoustic version that McCartney recorded by himself as he was working it through, which was included on Anthology 3. It's okay, because again, even the Beatles' throwaways are pretty damn good. But naw...there's only one version of this I ever want to hear:




"No one will be watching us..."

#300) "At this Moment (Live)" by Billy Vera and the Beaters - Really just one word is needed to describe this performance: "Effortless". There are a lot of good singers in the world, giving memorable performances, but what's notable here is how easy Billy Vera makes it look. He's feeling it for sure, but never has to concentrate too much. Never a need to bob his head and conduct himself toward perfect pitch with pinched fingers...he's just singing, and always - always - on top of - and out in front of - the next note, while more or less just standing there. His weeping falsetto is moving. The saxophone is monster. The song, overall (if you really sit and listen to what is going on), spellbindingly heartbreaking. Funny, I've always liked the song, but never felt it before the way I do now. Must be my age. ;-)




"If you'd stay I'd subtract twenty years from my life..."

Yet ANOTHER Top 100 (or so) Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50

#297) "Drive" by The Cars - There are some ballads that don't make the listener feel sad so much as emotionally manipulated, not sure quite what to feel, which often results in an unsettling emotional hybrid I have for a long time referred to as "oogy".  "Oogy" is something that can't really be forged. It's mostly an unconscious discipline on the artist's part, and yes, universally subjective on the listener's part. But there are nevertheless certain songs I think speak to a greater, more implacable sense of disquiet, distress and unease that transcends politics, personalities and personal lives, and lingers around whether anything bad is actually happening, and whether other people are there to witness it.

Ever since it reached No. 3 in the summer of 1984, "Drive" has been one of those songs for me. Over the years I've more than once found myself transfixed when it was playing, not wanting to listen for how it was making me feel, the colors it was painting the walls of my mind with, but not really able to turn it off either.

Thirty-four years after its release, I think I've finally figured out know why (in other words, what makes for an "oogy" song): it's because nothing is ever explained. You don't know what's wrong, or what's happening (or has happened), you just know that it's not good. Someone is suffering; someone is teetering on - about to be laid waste by - tragedy. And the string of rhetorical questions that comprises the lyrics suggests only that that same "someone" is in denial about it all.

Alas, the video, with Cars frontman (but not singer on this track) Ric Ocasek and his lovely then-girlfriend Paulina Porizkova, does what a lot of videos do to their parent song: it waters it down, extinguishes the fire by introducing visually interpretative (and emotionally flame-retardant) information that is completely unnecessary.

Unaided (or unencumbered) by the video, "Drive" unbridles the imagination by not saying too much, not revealing too much. Its very charge as a piece of music is to remain secretive, I believe. Its dense, dreamy, synthesizer sadness really tweaked my thoughts when I was eleven.  Still does.

"You can't go on thinking nothing's wrong..."


#298) "I'll Never Pass This Way Again" by Tracy Lawrence -"I'll Never Pass This Way Again" was written for The Civil War, a 1990s theater production in which the lyrics of many of the songs were drawn from or based on actual letters that Civil War soldiers on both sides, slaves, and other people from that era sent to friends and loved ones. A collaboration of country music artists resulted in a Nashville soundtrack release, on which Lawrence's rendition appears. This is another song that, had I not been working in country radio, I probably would never have heard of, because although it was released in the exact same manner as other singles of the day, it didn't exactly burn up the charts or request line, where I worked or anywhere else.

That isn't because it's not a great song, it just didn't fit the 'Hot Country!' radio mold of the day. To the contrary, for all its deceptive simplicity, "I'll Never Pass This Way Again" has remained among my all-time favorite country ballads. From its opening measures, in which fiddles create a compellingly mournful bagpipe-style skirl, to the contemplative horse-trot beat carrying along a weeping arsenal of string instruments (guitar, banjo, mandolin...not to mention Lawrence's solid vocals, which fits right in), "I'll Never Pass This Way Again" evokes a real specific kind of melancholy, which, like The Cars' "Drive", speaks to something greater than merely the moment at hand.

It's in the title, first and foremost: the inflexibly linear architecture of time ceaselessly tows us forward, making access to the past, returning home, impossible.

It's also in the lyrics, which, although I'm not sure of this, I like to think are largely based on some of those actual letters from Civil War soldiers. They evoke a sense of duty, no doubt, but not chest-pumping patriotism. They don't take a side, as such, because the emotional moment the song presents - feeling compelled to go but wanting desperately to stay - is neither the time nor the place for the listener to take sides. This hands-off approach allows the song to become potent, affirming that all of us, whether blue collar or white collar, soldier or civilian, black or white, would rather stay right the hell where we are than go anywhere, get everything we can from the moment at hand, while we can, in the place we find ourselves, rather than risk losing it for good, which we know eventually we will.

"If I had a penny I would wish me a spell / I would kneel and pray that here I'd stay forever, amen..."

Reason #46 to Live Nebulously...

Yes, impressive, compelling...but the repercussions and/or ramifications of folding these things into our society, with the same boundary-less "can do" spirit humans apply to all their endeavors, could potentially be disastrous. The scene at 0:28 is especially unnerving....right? I can't be the only one who would prefer these things NOT be able to stay on their feet if they get kicked.

Reason #45 to Live Nebulously

Soo....I think this is supposed to be as cute as it is impressive...? Or something? I suppose I get it (kind of...not really), but I don't think this hyper technology is going to lead anywhere good. And I think the (real) dog would agree.

Yet ANOTHER Top 100 (or so) Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50

#295) "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse - I have a confession to make here: I am a posthumous Amy Winehouse fan. It wasn't until her tragic (though not entirely surprising) demise in 2011 that I realized how good she was. I had heard of her when she was alive, as much about her tumultuous life as her big talent. Praise for her work and concern for her well-being came from all sorts of places and voices, and repeatedly impelled me to check out her music. But when I did, for some reason, it was never what I was hoping for, or expecting. I always lost interest pretty quickly.

Then, in the months following her death, after the chatter had settled down a bit, I listened to "Back to Black" (for the umpteenth time, but first time post-mortem), and it just came to me, was kind of delivered actually: the recognition that what Elton John had said about Winehouse was completely true. Distilled down to a single word: "Seminal".

I don't know why it only happened after her death, but so powerfully did it hit me, it almost didn't seem like the same song I was listening to. I couldn't believe I had been so dismissive.

Bob Dylan reportedly referred to Winehouse as the "last individualist around", and while I know what he meant, I think through a certain lens, the London-born singer/songwriter's music and legacy are too universally appealing to be individual, and I don't mean that in a negative way. Quite the contrary. Beyond the gorgeous instrumentation, there is something seminal about "Back to Black", particularly as it speaks to or about women. There's a kind of potent sullenness to the emotions being expressed here that is an accurate portrayal, I think, of the female psyche in all manner of personal relationship. Yes, I know that's a generalization, but it's how the vast majority of the women I've known in my life (romantically or otherwise) cope with them: contained, composed, somewhat veiled, but simmering just the same, and all too internal. The lyrics are the thoughts floating through a woman's mind after you have excused yourself from the room, or the conversation. The things she can't or won't say out loud, because if she does, things will get really ugly.

Of course, sometimes she does.

I mean no disrespect to any woman, or women in general, just mad respect for the artistry of a song that incisively taps into something so truthful. It's the reason, at least in part, that Winehouse built such a sturdy legacy in her all-too-short career.

NOTE: This live version doesn't really capture the "gorgeous instrumentation" of the album version, but it does showcase her captivating stage presence, which I guess at the end of the day proves Bob Dylan right: who else could this be but Amy Winehouse?

"You go back to her and I go back to black..."

#296) "Somebody Save Me" by Cinderella - I've always considered Cinderella to be among the best of the "hair metal" bands that contributed heavily to the soundtrack of my teenage years. Although their hair was ratted up and they wore the same kind of spandex-y hodge podge of grungy-ish clothing, they nevertheless seemed the least glammy and androgynous of the litter (which included Poison, White Lion, Slaughter, Skid Row, etc.), and therefore the most legitimate (although by what rubric I arrived at that conclusion I don't remember, and perhaps never knew). I get that the whole androgynous thing was (and doubtless still is) a good way to attract women in the audience, but none of it ever resonated too clearly with a skinny, fish belly kid from northern Wisconsin. Back then, I never viewed the hair metal/glam rock scene as anything more than a glimpse into a world I was painfully aware I could not possibly gain access to, and more to the point, didn't really want to. So therefore, I could never relate. And at ages 15, 16, 17, 18, I really needed to be able to relate to music. I had to be able to plug it into my own life in some way, or invariably I came to not care all that much.

Cinderella struck me as relatively down to Earth, a kind of roots rock outlet for hair metal, if such a thing could ever exist. And "Somebody Save Me" could be considered confirmation of this: a working class anthem that has little or nothing to do with nights in the Hollywood Hills or on the Sunset Strip, more to do with the shit storm that can erupt (and does) in an average, everyday life in an average, everyday home. I felt that at 17, and definitely believe it to be true now after Googling the lyrics.

That Bon Jovi, another band that always seemed a little different, a little more legitimate, a little more real to me, show up at the end of the video would seem to suggest maybe I was onto something.

If nothing else, "Somebody Save Me" is among the best straightforward hard rock songs to come out of the late 1980s. Great great noise for a cross-country drive. ;-)


"I'm going down for the last time..."