The Top 100 (or so) Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50 (cont...)

Happy One Year Anniversary! I got nine left to make this happen...;-)

#95) "Spaghetti Western" by The Brains - Another shot of adrenaline for long driving stretches - maybe that stretch of I-70 that goes on for 1,000 barren light years through Utah without a single place to stop and pee - Spaghetti Western bursts out of the gate, hits the ground running, rises in intensity, and stands its ground until the last note. It is a well-timed musical engine puttering along on the power of singer Rene D La Muerte's aggressive vocals.

And Spaghetti Western sounds like more than a few relationships I've had in my life, engines that were not so well-timed. Nothing like bringing all the untenable situations of my life along with me on a 14,000 mile road trip. ;-)

"There's only room one of us, is that what we should be...?"

#96) "Suspicious Minds' by Elvis Presley - Once a while back, Suspicious Minds played at work, and a kid who worked for me listened a moment, then remarked, "This song reminds me of the movie Lilo and Stitch."

Several months later, it happened again, different kid, but the same song and same movie reference.

Apparently Suspicious Minds, along with several other Elvis songs, can be found on the soundtrack of the 2002 movie.  This is not the first time something like this has happened, nor is it all that unusual, nor do I mean to pick on Lilo and Stitch.  But in recent years I have noticed that many of the Millennial generation - those born after 1984, and especially post-1990 - recognize music - even some of their own music - only through the vast store of movies and cartoon videos they grew up with, and that is a new phenomenon.

As a Gen X'er who was a kid in the 70s and early 80s, I got a little taste of this. Videos were certainly around, but there weren't nearly as many, and they were not readily for sale. Video stores were the only place to acquire one, primarily by renting, and it was a special thing, a big deal. There were no extensive collections of movies displayed on living room shelves at the time, at least not in my house. For that matter, there were no 180 cable channels or satellite television (that didn't require a six-figure income and 5 acres of land just for the dish). Among the channels that existed, there were none (outside of pay channels like HBO) devoted solely to cartoons or movies, and the 24-hour all-access the Internet provides nowadays was completely unheard of. Cartoons were still a Saturday morning thing. Feature length movies of any kind were still a 'Special Television Presentation' on Friday, Saturday or Sunday night. And while it was possible to record something off TV, programming a VCR really was no simple process, certainly not a matter of 'point and click' like a DVR today.

All of it meant that music was almost entirely heard on the radio, and of course MTV (back when the 'M' still meant something...), and therefore, I theorize, still being absorbed organically.

These days, so many songs are co-opted for other uses, and perhaps more to the point there are so many other uses (we are all being 'entertained' into oblivion), many have become associated primarily with a movie, or a video game, or in some cases on YouTube by some random user not observing copyrights.

I think this phenomenon leaves young people shortchanged, especially in a world too often determined to find a category for all music - a nice sensible - and totally limiting - mold to stuff each and every song into.

Suspicious Minds is not the greatest song in the world, but it's unique to Elvis post '68 comeback special / pre-physical and mental decline that led to his untimely death in 1977, at the age of 42. It is his lovely but ultimately futile push toward restoring his career in a world and an industry that had passed him by. It reached number one in 1969, and was the last of his music to do so in the U.S. during his lifetime.

I think that's important to know. Or at least have some awareness of.

As music shouldn't be whored out to sell sneakers, cell phones, beer, potato chips or diapers, it probably shouldn't be folded freely into the saccharine story line of a kiddie movie...or any movie.

It should be left alone to comprise the soundtrack of our lives.

"Let's don't let a good thing die, with suspicious minds..."

#97) "I've Got Dreams to Remember" by Otis Redding - The best pop songs usually end up defining something. That could be the times we live in (the times the song was released into), or a certain type of music (genre), or, for certain artists, perhaps their career, or their artistic direction at a certain moment in that career. 

I've Got Dreams to Remember is one of those songs that doesn't necessarily define anything. It's not the song Redding is remembered for, nor is it a stamp of final approval on the 'soul' genre. But for this - and more, I think, than others in Redding's musical library (any one of which could be considered a 'final stamp') - it achieves a timelessness that defines everything, and endures.

Definitely on my - and I'd wager a lot of people's - 'soundtrack'.

"Nobody knows what I feel inside..."

The Top 100 Songs (or so) I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50 (cont...)

#42) "Summertime" by Kenny Chesney - Kenny Chesney has built his career largely around kicking back and looking back. His music for the most part avoids the piss and vinegar prevalent among many of his country music co-stars; that is, it avoids being overly 'country', 'American', or 'Southern', sentiments which can lead to a kind of exclusion unless you're determined to strike a serious, and absurd, pose.

This laid back (and truthfully no less 'country', 'American' or 'Southern') musical style and vibe appeals to me. Chesney has come to represent, for me, what being a small towner should be about...and was for me, to an extent, in days gone by (minus the cowboy hat and boots, which I would look positively horrendous in). Some of the first times and good times in his music are idealized, but really no more so than they wind up being in people's memories. Some people were lucky enough to get a taste, just a taste, of something idyllic. I was one of them. 

Summertime is an ode to the sweetest season; the only season I would ever dream of trying to pull off 1/48/50 in. It's a clarion call to the anticipation and practice of a perfect summer. Like much of Chesney's music, it just kind of feels good, and more importantly, I get the sense that everyone's invited to the party.

"The nights roll in, man, just like a long lost friend..."

#43) "Winning" by Santana - Winning was released in 1981, but I didn't realize it was Santana until 2007. I'm not sure who I thought it was all those times it droned in the background on this classic rock station or that; some one-hit wonder of the era, I guess. It's not Carlos Santana singing, it rarely (never?) is, and the singer's vocal style is a bit different from other Santana collaborations. But the guitar work is hard to mistake for anyone but Santana, and this just might be the mother of all 'never say die' survival songs. I don't like the thought of getting out of bed without this song within reach, really, much less driving 14,000 miles across the country.

"I had a dream, but it turned to dust/what I thought was love that must have been lust..."

#44) "(Sittin' on) The Dock of a Bay" by Otis Redding  - Recorded just a few days before the soul singer's untimely death in 1967, (Sittin' on) The Dock of a Bay became a huge hit in the aftermath. But to dwell on the posthumous factor is to detract, unfairly in my opinion, from the greatness of the song. Between the elegant arrangement complementing his butter smooth voice, and his butter smooth voice complementing lyrics that are as salty as they are tragic, I think even if Redding were alive today this would still be considered, and rightly so, one of the greatest recordings ever.

And if you really think about it a moment, sitting on the dock of a bay, wasting time, might just be the ultimate, ultimate state of living nebulously!

"Sitting here resting my bones, and this loneliness won't leave me alone..."

#45) "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train - Train is one of those bands people love to hate; their songs usually turn up on playlists as dirty little secrets, but this keeps the band quietly and securely living on the close periphery of stardom. They never make a huge impact; never reveal themselves as game changers, never sweep the Grammies (although they have won). But since the late 90s they've kind of always been there, doing their thing. Everybody knows the band, but nobody seems to know what the lead singer's name is offhand, and nearly everyone I've talked to over time has at least one song they like that they were surprised to learn was a Train song.

For me, Train's music is like wine. The more time goes by, the better it tastes - the richer and more complex the notes. Drops of Jupiter, Meet Virginia, Calling All Angels...songs that used to annoy me (without really knowing why) simply don't anymore (also without knowing why).

I have a special place in my heart for 2009's Hey, Soul Sister. It was released at a time of upheaval in my life. When everything was changing all at once, when it was anybody's guess how things were going to shake out, and I was faced with coming to terms with a few of the leaden realities of life, this song came along like a gasp of relief, a brightly lit reassurance that everything was going to be all right, that I was going to be all right. Music doesn't normally serve that function for me, but Hey, Soul Sister was at the right place at the right time.