The List Week 5

Things have been difficult lately. I put this playlist together close to a month ago, now, but just lacked the energy or willpower to put together a post as normal. I won’t be able to go too into anything this time around, but I wanted to at least make sure the playlist was up and available for those who were interested. If you ever find a song you like or just enjoy the articles or the website it always means a lot if you shoot me a comment or message letting me know.

Anyways, without any further waiting, here is Week 5.

Class Historian, by BRONCHO: This song hooks you from the moment you hear it. The echo- laden “da-da-da/do-do-do” that start the song off, and provide a driving energy through the whole of the song, are irresistibly catchy. The high-school stoner detachment of the lyrics are an excellent example of the lyrics not needing to make any clear sense and still be perfect.

Video Killed The Radio Star, by Bruce Woolley: This song is notable in that it is, in fact, not a cover. Bruce Woolley wrote the song with Trevor Horn and Geoffrey Downes, who would become the Buggles. As such, this song is one where there are actually two “original” versions of the song.

Fantastic Man, by William Onyeabor: Very little is known about William Onyeabor, who self-released eight albums from 1977 to 1985 in Nigeria. He went on to become a born-again Christian, and swore off speaking about himself or his music again, which it seemed he held to for quite some time. In 2014 he said he would release more music, and then in 2017 he passed away. Though the largely unknown history of the man is absolutely fascinating, we are at least left with his music, which is proof enough for me that he actually was a fantastic man.

Bad Cartridge (E-Pro), by Beck [Remix by Paza of the X-Dump]: This remix stands out in my mind as almost a fixed point in my life. Beck, the musician I had already been quite the fan of (so far back that I used to sing back “two turntables and a micaphone” because I hadn’t fully mastered pronunciation of the phonemes the word was made of yet) now had a batch of his songs redone with the noises from a Gameboy. It was the perfect crossover for the nerd I already was by sixth grade or so, who would start up the clunky Gameboy classic I had borrowed from a family friend just so I could listen to the opening music of Link’s Awakening.

Gone Daddy Gone, by Gnarls Barkley: I’m just going to assume most of you heard this one. It blew up for a bit back when it came out (which is longer ago than I care to think about, honestly). Great cover of a great original.

Sober, by Childish Gambino: I get to pull my hipster cred card when it comes to Donald Glover. I was a huge fan of Derrick Comedy when they were still actively coming out, I loved Community, and listened to his Childish Gambino work long before it exploded in popularity (very deservedly) after the release of Awaken, My Love! This song is a fantastic summertime jam.

wish you were gay, by Billie Eilish: The countdowns in this song are excellent. The sentiment of the song is something very relatable thought it comes from a clearly personal place. The music (as is the case with the entirety of the album) is impeccably mixed, full of excellent audio textures and fills, with little details that reward repeat listens (which is almost a given with how catchy the song is).

And there we have it, Week 5 finally up and available. I’m sorry for not writing as much as usual, and for the lateness of the post. I hope you all are doing well. As always, you can find the playlist on Apple Music and Spotify.

Thank you for your time.

The List Week 3

Hey all. This week the posts are going to be short, because mental health issues in our current times can be less than easy to navigate, particularly when you are still waiting on an appointment to get back onto a antidepressant medication, and as such have been facing the world with no medication for months. I mean, clearly that’s just one hypothetical situation. Anyways. Here’s week three.

Fill in the Blank, by Car Seat Headrest: One of the best songs when it comes to creating an accurate depiction of how it can feel struggling with mental health, not just the internal struggle but the struggle to find some modicum of validation. One of the hardest things to do is often getting others to understand that what you’re going through isn’t just some easily fixed mood-adjustment.

You & I, by Diamond Rings: The first Diamond Rings album (there are only two, sadly) is for some reason not available on Apple Music. It is the source of much consternation for me, truth be told, but this one single off of the album is still available, so it really was the only choice I had to include if I wanted to achieve parity on the Apple and Spotify playlist I put together every week (which at some point or some weeks I may have to accept is impossible but I’m dong my best to avoid that, because some people only use one of the apps). I love the whole album this song is off of, called “Special Affections,” and would highly recommend giving it a listen. Sadly, this project of John O’Regan seems to have been retired for the time being.

Going Back to School, Pt. 1, by Math the Band: Math the Band was a strange electronic-garage-punk-party band, often sounding like if the ADHD kid in class listened to a lot of Devo and local punk bands and then tried to record The Postal Service songs. My favorite of their albums (both in terms of music and name), “Banned the Math” (get it?), is exceptional, and unfortunately unavailable for streaming on any service anymore. Though it can still be found here on YouTube, the lead of the band decided that the music no longer reflected the musical direction the band was going and his own songwriting sensibilities. I know this because I actually emailed the band to ask where that album was; I have been a passionate fan of many bands and musicians in my life, and if this blog is anything to go by, I have a lot to say about what I like, but this stands as the only time I have ever actually sent fan mail to a band. This song is one of theirs I listen to the most, myself often living in the “god, I really ought to finish my degree” world for a long time. And as in the song, I hit the “fuck it” moment- I am enrolled to start going back to school myself this fall. Math the Band’s sound has evolved even further since this song, already an evolution from their earliest music, and they now are a fully fleshed out rock band, called Math the Band the Band. I love them.

Can I Kick It?, by A Tribe Called Quest: This is one of the best hip-hop songs ever created. The production is fantastic, laying beats and fantastic lines on top of a Lou Reed song, of all things. There has been so much that has been said about A Tribe Called Quest already, that I’ll just leave it short and simple. They are incredible, this song is incredible, give it your time.

The Party Song, by Blushh: I saw Blushh last year at a show The Countermen also played at (they were both opening for a larger (in a commercial sense) band which, frankly, was far less good live than either of the opening bands). They just recently released their first album, “R.I.P. Apathy”.

Lousy Connection, by Ezra Furman: Ezra Furman is far too underrated an artist. His music is fantastic, and after half a decade of listening to it, I just finally got to see him live this February, which was fantastic. Personal, political, poetic, powerful, other alliterative adjectives, his songs are fantastically written and recorded and I would urge a dig into his discography.

We Will All Go Together When We Go, by Tom Lehrer: Tom Leher has taught mathematics at Harvard, political science at MIT, is credited as the inventor of the Jell-O shot, and also happens to be one of the best musical comedians to ever exist. The man is brilliant, hilarious, and his dark humor and incisive wit cannot be understated. And, frankly, it’s fun to toss in some gallows humor now and then.

This week’s playlist can be found on Apple Music and Spotify.

Thank you for your time.

The List Week 2

Hello and welcome to week two of this project where I get to spew opinions into the void, just in case the void is interested in hearing some new music. If you love a song, or the playlist, or hate it, or maybe have a suggestion for a song to include next time, or even an idea for a general theme (basically, anything to say at all save hate speech and so on) please feel welcome to drop a comment and/or a like. So, with that said, let’s get to it.

Happy Wasteland Day, by Open Mike Eagle: The fact that Open Mike Eagle gets only 172,000 monthly listeners on Spotify is an upsetting revelation. The album this track is off of, Brick Body Kids Still Daydream (a concept album about the demolishing of a housing project in Chicago), garnered a fair amount of attention critically when it was released, making it onto more than a couple ‘top albums of the year’ lists in 2017. The production on his songs is consistently interesting and sonically diverse, and his lyrics are excellent both in content and delivery. This song’s inclusion in the list this week is partially to refocus on a broader issue- the quarantine, the self-isolation, the absurd fight against science and reason, and the lack of any semblance of mourning from our President in regards to the loss of life- are all just symptoms of a far deeper problem. “When the king is a garbage person” has been the reality of our situation for years now, and the pleading for “one day without violence, one day without fear” has been a reality, particularly for the more socioeconomically beleaguered, for the entire span of recent memory (and, arguably, all the length of our country’s history). Ironically, the current crisis that sits on our collective psyche has answered, at least partially, Open Mike’s requests- this March was the first in eighteen years to not have a single school shooting. All it took was for all the schools to be closed first.

Prisencolinensinainciusol, by Adriano Celentano: “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.” This song is brilliant, exploring the concept of communication barriers, of hearing without comprehension, through the use of a linguistic uncanny valley. The entire song is made to sound like it is spoken in English, as American rock and pop music had very been influential on the Italian artist Adriano Celentano. That being said, save the phrase “all right,” the entire song is nothing more than a pastiche of American sounds and cadences delivered with such apparent authenticity that your brain struggles to piece the words that aren’t actually there together.

SPRORGNSM, by Superorganism: I kind of love this song simply because, when recommending it to others or telling them the song that is playing, I get to say the phrase “oh this is the song SPRORGNSM of the album Superorganism. By the band Superorganism.” Of course, the appeal goes far deeper than that. This song, and the album as a whole, is fantastically produced, incredibly layered and sonically diverse and engaging. The music itself is an extension of the core message of this song (which, for the sake of argument, I will take to be a sort of manifesto for the band as a whole) with barnyard animal sounds, detuned and distorted guitars (distorted in the sense of an Escher clock more than in the sense of a rock guitar), a voice speaking like a Wikipedia entry gaining sentience, and a thousand other incidental noises all combining into a musical superorganism. The song seems almost intentionally reminiscent of Marshall McLuhan’s “The Medium is the Massage,” both in its message of joining into a superorganism through our new technologies- or, as McLuhan put it, “Electric technology fosters and encourages unification and involvement”- and in the production sensibilities as a whole, taking McLuhan’s belief that “When two seemingly disparate elements are imaginatively poised, put in apposition in new and unique ways, startling discoveries often result,” and running with it.

Girl!, by Terror Pigeon: This a sweet song about being in love. The music flows fantastically, from the subdued opening bearing the feeling of an intimate moment of conversation that swells into a loud, bold string of declarations of love that quickens like a lover’s heartbeat when they first touch their crush's hand. Plus, hey, the song is pretty catchy. I like it, and more people should listen to it, and here it is, on this list.

Germ Free Adolescents, by X-Ray Spex: It’s almost May 2020. If you are reading this when it comes out, or close to it, you know full well why this song would be on my mind. If you are reading this in the future, hello, hi, thanks for reading this, and for your aided comprehension, I’ll let you know that there’s a bit of a pandemic on at the moment. Poly Styrene’s lyrics and vocals on this track carry a tone of detachment and melancholy that feel more than moderately prescient in today’s times. X-Ray Spex were one of the original wave of the British punk scene, finding themselves in the company of bands such as Joy Division, the Smiths, the Slits, the Clash, and more, all united by the fact that they started a band after seeing the Sex Pistols live.

John Wayne Was a Nazi, by MDC: This song exists in my mind as the Platonic ideal of a punk song. It is fast, angry, political, hyperbolic, irreverent, and bursting at the seams with raw energy. The opening bass line is so immediately recognizable and unforgettable that, I must admit, it is one of the primary reasons I took up playing bass myself. This song is illustrative of the weird cultural divide I bounced on either side of in my childhood, with my grandparents and great grandparents (whom I spent a lot of time around) being very much the country and western type (musically, aesthetically, even hobby-wise) to the point that my great grandparents had a framed photo of John Wayne in their home, while my parents brought me up in such a way that it produced the vocally communist hipster you see today. I grew up loving country music and watching westerns and riding horses and so on, which if anything added a bit more impish delight at the attack at a western idol whenever I heard Dave Dictor’s vocals hitting the perfect tone to deliver the best line in all of punk: “Well John, we ain’t got no regrets/ as long as you died a long and painful death.”

Festival Song, by Jeff Rosenstock: I had never heard of this song, or this artist, until last week. The comedian James Acaster (best known for the meme of him on Great British Baking show saying “Started making it. Had a breakdown. Bon appetite”) was recommended to me by a friend two years ago, and has since become one of my favorite comedians. Recently, while going down the YouTube rabbit hole for what must have been at least three hours, I discovered that he had just recently released a book. As a bookish person in general, I was already intrigued. Upon discovering that it was about music (namely, how 2016 was the best year for music ever), and how he got very into listening to music during a protracted emotional breakdown, well, you can likely imagine how that was clearly a must-buy in my mind. That book, “Perfect Sound Whatever,” (which I bought used online (from not-Amazon because I don’t really want to add another cent to Papa Bezos’s pockets whenever I can avoid it) turned out to be signed, which is really cool) takes its name from the last song on the album this song is off of, called Worry. I checked out the album, as it was the first one mentioned in the preface of the book, and I was immediately hooked. Once I hit this song, which is only the third one on the album, it was hard for me to actually listen to the rest of the album because I just kept restarting this one; a conservative estimate of how many times I’ve listened to this song in just this one week is still well past twenty. The lyrics are fantastic, the song is fantastic, listen to it.

And there we have it, week two out and written up. You can find this playlist on Spotify and Apple. Once again, please like and drop a comment if you want, share this around if you want to help feed my malnourished self-esteem, and check out the rest of this site for new articles and other stuff of interest that will be coming out in the near future. See you next week.

Thank you for your time.

The List Week 1

So, here we go: Week 1.

Everything is Awful, by The Decemberists: We’re in the midst of more political turmoil (when aren’t we, anymore?), the president floated the idea of injecting ourselves with disinfectant, and most of us are closed up in our homes because of a global pandemic. This project has been something I’ve been holding onto in my head for a long time, and now felt like the right time, and the first track was a no-brainer.

2 AM, by The Countermen: I can confidently say that I have been one of the people who has waited the longest to have this song finally released as a single. Being lucky enough to be friends with this band, I booked their first show (which happened to be my first show, as well). The driving, speedy, and immediately catchy opening guitar riff grabbed my attention instantaneously the first time I heard it; it was an immediate revelation that this band that my friends had put together was very much onto something, and were going to do very well. And then I had to wait a little over two years to have this single release, finally, this week. Look forward to an interview I had with Andrew Vardanega about this song’s release and the band in general being posted soon.

All My Friends, by LCD Soundsystem: It was inevitable that I include at least one LCD Soundsystem song on my first playlist. It’s inevitable that I include them on quite a few of these lists, and that’s even if I try to employ some self-control. This is my favorite band, full stop. With the current stay in place orders, this has been readily present on my mind as of late (it being one of my go-to “I am very sad and feeling isolated” jams). This is just a side note, but most lyrics sites say that a line goes “When you’re drunk and the kids leave impossible tasks,” which I refuse to recognize as accurate. The line is “When you’re drunk and the kids look impossibly tan,” and unless James Murphy himself tells me otherwise I will not be swayed from this opinion.

I Don’t Wanna Be Funny Anymore, by Lucy Dacus: I had no idea about this song, or this artist, until last month, when Spotify took it upon themselves to play her cover of “Dancing in the Dark” after one of my playlists had ended. I was hooked, and looked into more of her releases, including an absolutely fantastic cover of “La Vie en Rose,” which happens to be my favorite song of all time. But this song in particular strikes a very personal chord. One primary struggle I often grapple with in the funhouse of anxiety and depression that is my psyche is the feeling that I’m not doing ENOUGH with my life, with my time, with the ‘potential’ I’ve been told I have. Which often plays out in urges to reinvent myself, to throw away the comedy stuff I do that, to me on my bad days (which is most of them), holds very little value or artistic merit. Include with that a pervasive feeling of distance from others, lines like “lately I’ve been feeling like the odd man out,” the whole song pins down a very specific feeling I have often, of wanting to not just be the funny one, and the isolating feelings I attach to that label.

Lithium, by The Polyphonic Spree: I have no clear idea why this cover exists. Where Kurt Kobain’s numb-to-angry delivery and Nirvana’s morose-to-raucus instrumentation feel like the most necessary ingredients to the whole of what I always believed the song to be, The Polyphonic Spree presents a sincerely joyous and bombastic cover. When Tim DeLaughter sings “I’m so happy ‘cause today I found my friends/ They’re in my head,” there is no trace of the ironic detachment that Kurt brought to the lines. And yet this all works. This twenty-four-or-so piece (seriously, check the Wikipedia on this band, it is insane) band achieves the gold standard for a cover, taking the source material and recontextualizing it with their unique style and basically creating a new song. Also, google search these guys, because I’m always mildly concerned that this band I enjoy might actually just be a weird Texas cult that just presses albums as a side gig, and you will see why.

Clearest Blue, by CHVRCHES: This is in contention for being my favorite CHVRCHES song, and I feel like most listeners will understand why immediately. I’d say some already have, seeing as three people have messaged me after I posted this playlist to say some variation of “this CHVRCHES song is a real banger,” which to me means I did a decent enough job of suggesting a song. Lauren Mayberry’s incredible vocals, the gradual build to a fantastic apex at the 2:10 mark, and the relatable (at least to me and my self-destructive impulses) lyrics that center on pushing someone away and simultaneously asking, begging, for them to meet you halfway, all come together to make a song I love. Also, it’s a pretty good track for jogging to. So that’s also cool.

Helden, by David Bowie: David Bowie is one of the most important musicians to ever be. Not only was he brilliant, charming, and willing to call out what he saw was wrong (like here), not only was he an incredible singer and musician, no, he also managed to be one of the best songwriters ever. This song is one of his best in its normal form, but I opted for the lesser-known German vocals version for two reasons- 1) I just recently saw Jojo Rabbit (and loved it) and so the song was fresh on my mind, and; 2) while the lyrics are absolutely fantastic, I love the experience of being able to listen to his voice and the emotion in it without filtering it through language comprehension.

So yes, there’s week one’s list. You can find it on Apple Music and Spotify.

Thank you for your time.