SotD: Talk Show Host by Radiohead

Today I find myself at an emotional impasse. There comes a certain time in life where you realize that the neat little equations you were taught about how life is supposed to be are all a sham. 1 + 1 never equals 2, because there is always something to be lost when something is gained.

Buddha teaches us to try and live in the present- live at each breath's inhale and exhale- but today my thoughts are at the tipping point of past and future. How did I get here and where am I going. For the present moment, that is all my mind can seem to rest on. So, for today, a slow and languid song. A song about restless immobility. A theme song of mine.

Radiohead's "Talk Show Host" so brilliantly captures a mood more than anything else. All of its elements are simple, small movements that together create a feeling of open space and of being lost. It paints the picture of a Dali desert with its slightly surreal suggestions and collage of sounds. It's a little morbid, a little desperate, a little resigned.

You want me?
Fucking come on and break the door down.
I'm ready.

I'm ready.

In Memoriam: Songs of War

Image by Ralph Steadman

Like most American holidays, Memorial Day is often thought of as a long weekend, established for the sake of declaring the start of summer and calling us to remember only our beachware. We have to remind ourselves to remember that the day exists for memorializing our dead- the American dead- and the many American wars we have fought, sending our soldiers to their graves. It's a somber holiday and this year it is the most somber of all. Soldiers are still dying. America is still at war and many of us may not even remember why. Each year we seem to move further and further away from a notion of peace- in Iraq, on our borders and in the world at large. Let us remember, then, that war is not a game and it is not a television show. It is an undertaking that, even in the best of circumstances and the most noble of causes, leads to untimely graves for so many soldiers and so many bystanders alike. It should always remain a last resort and when it is necessary it should not be celebrated or aggrandized, but mourned because it will always result in the spilling of blood.

In honor of the dead and dying, I call to memory the great power music once had to rally people against unnecessary war. It is still our strongest tool for awakening mass consciousness and expressing a unified voice. It has been used as a tool for fundraising, for opening up dialogue and for sticking up a big FUCK YOU to the powers that be. It seems to me that there is no better time to recall this grand tradition.

For a little inspiration, here are some of the most powerful, honest and just plain good songs about war:

Masters of War by Bob Dylan, written in 1963 and released on the album The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Just fucking honest as hell, Dylan always managed to say all the words you might be thinking about the most vital subjects without claiming himself to be any kind of saviour. This song is one of the best examples of Dylan-as-poet first and foremost.

Machine Gun by Jimi Hendrix, debuted in September 1969 with the Band of Gypsys. Leave it to Hendrix to write a song about war by making his guitar sound like a machine gun. This is one of the best Hendrix songs ever written and I am a personal fan of the Band of Gypsys line-up.

Feel Like I'm Fixin' to Die Rag (Next Stop Vietnam), by Country Joe and the Fish, released in May 2967. The sarcasm of this song is so funny it's sad, or so sad it's funny. Maybe a little of both. It's a perfect Woodstock anthem and it couldn't outline the situation any better. Whoopee, we're all gonna die.

Handsome Johnny, performed by Richie Havens as the first song of the opening set of Woodstock '69. What a way to open three days of peace, love and music. Havens' rhythmic mastery during this famed set are still a magical experience, even second and third hand. Whatever the sum total of Havens as a musician may be, during this song and subsequently during "Freedom," he had all the power of an old blues legend.

Song of Last Week: Harrisburg by Josh Ritter

Last week I saw Pittsburgh, one of many trips to the river city I have made in my day. This time I saw it from summer's approaching breath, from love's bedroom, from the pavement of a hangover, and from the wide window of a train. Accompanying me on that train was the music of Josh Ritter, who I first saw at Club Cafe in Pittsburgh's southside. He had a broad smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. I was hooked.

Josh Ritter allows me to keep having faith in many things, namely the joy of music for music's sake, small town pleasantries, good lyrics, and trains. His song Harrisburg, from his wonderful "Golden Age of Radio" album, is exactly the track you want to hear on a 9-hour train ride through Pennsylvania. It opens with a brooding Am and you know this ride is going to be a thoughtful one, though not necessarily grim. It tells the story of Romero, his marriage, his kids and his flight away from it all. But really, it's about leaving for no good reason other than the fact that the train is departing. I love to be moving and I always have one eye on the escape route, so I can't help but empathize with Romero. Anyway, the lyrics are beautiful:

It's a long way to Heaven, it's closer to Harrisburg
And that's still a long way from the place where we are
And if evil exists its a pair of train tracks
And the devil is a railroad car ...

Rose at the altar withered and wilted
Romero sank into a dream
He didn't make Heaven, he didn't make Harrisburg
He died in a hole in between
Some say that man is the root of all evil
Others say God's a drunkard for pain
Me I believe that the Garden of Eden
Was burned to make way for a train

Josh Ritter is worth keeping an eye on. You can give him a listen at his myspace page. While I prefer Golden Age of Radio and Hello Starling to his latest, The Animal Years, he's pretty solid. His music is simple, feel-good, country-inspired folk, his lyrics are above par and the man has the most joyful smile I have ever seen.

SotD: Exquisite Corpse by Stephen Trask (Hedwig and the Angry Inch Soundtrack)

Oh my sweet lord. The week is done. I am a puddle of exhaustion after working on the CW's upfront for the last two weeks. The 16 hour days are over. There is much sleep to be had. There are no more Pussycat Dolls to look after. Oh yes.


Television is soul-draining, but John Cameron Mitchell's Hedwig and the Angry Inch makes it all ok. Today's (and by today I mean the one giant day that was Tues-Thurs) Song of the Day is Exquisite Corpse from the movie's quite perfect soundtrack (I actually prefer it to the original version from the play). Written by Stephen Trask, it is a rock collage of screeching sounds and lamenting interludes that embody all that is exquisite about raw exposure.

Inside I'm hollowed out
Outside's a paper shroud
And all the rest's illusion
That there's a will and soul
That we can wrest control
From chaos and confusion

This song is about the beauty of bareness and about allowing our feelings of chaos to show. It is about the underbelly of illusion. It's the perfect end to a day filled with illusions and the things we do to keep them in place.

SotD: Busting Up a Starbucks by Mike Doughty

Let me say, I know nothing about Mike Doughty. I have this song because it was on my Bonnaroo Sweet Sounds Mix Volume 8, which I got as a parting gift from the festival. I love the mix because it led me to discover Gomez (whose set I missed, sadly, because I knew not of their awesomeness), and allowed me to hear Citizen's Cope's "Son's Gonna Rise" on replay for many, many days.

But the dude seems cool enough, in the good music lite category, I would say (based on my little exposure) and this song is pretty cool. The lyrics are the perfect anti-commercial-life ode to suit my current daily existence, which has me lining up at Starbucks at least three times a day.

So, yes, I feel like busting up a Starbucks. Thanks, Mike Doughty, for identifying that sentiment for me.

Ryan Adams: Goodnight Rose

For first licks off Ryan Adam's upcoming release of Easy Tiger, check out this performance of "Goodnight Rose" from The Henry Rollins Show. I was lucky enough to catch Ryan Adams live this past fall at Town Hall and I realized how amazingly interesting he is to watch. He plays like he sings like he moves- all with a sort of boyish abandon for restraint. he jumps when he feels like jumping, he wails when he feels like wailing, he huddles into the piano when he feels just so and it's all beautifully uplifting and joyous to be a part of.

You can see that same style on this clip. You barely see his face with his tousled hair and his forward leans, but his body tells the music that he's singing. The opening hails back to the Grateful Dead's bright, jammy sound... offering up that "Goodnight Rose" riff, first easily and then grittier, harder, like it's gaining its own assertion.

The actual lead-in to Goodnight Rose is a perfect laying-out of the grand red carpet for Adams' voice. From the first words the song steps up beautifully with each lyric. The lyrics themselves remain in the blues-folk tradition, with a pronounced new optimism. "The sun will come up...get out of bed...the bar is closed." It's an after-the-rain image that sits well with Adams' energy. He rocks out, but with style and with his own unique blend of the greatest musical traditions. Adams' worlds always have a beauty/pain balance, so much so that he convinces you they are the same thing.

This song warrants many listens to get the simple beauty of it...and it totally gears me up for the album release. Adams is one of those artists that you just trust, and it's all a matter of waiting to see where he will take you next.

SotD: Everything in Its Right Place, by Radiohead

For many reasons, this try-to-take-a-nap-to-it-but-can't-because-
this-song-is-too-good-to-sleep-to song is the song of the day.

The thing is, sometimes change just grabs at you too stongly. but then it pulls back a little, and you start to understand how growth works. And then...you just sort of let things fall into place as they will.

So, to this I say, everything i n i t s r i g h t p l a c e .

Sizzlin' Summerstage Leaks

Oh sweet New York. In the summer it gets hot and humid, the locals jet, the tourist groups pour in and the city crackles with those restless souls who stuck around. One of the greatest summer oases of New York is Central Park's Summerstage. It's like a mini festival experience at the heart center of all that concrete and brick. Though Summerstage has not yet announced their summer line-up, Ticketmaster and Jambase have already revealed a few of their secrets.

The Black Crowes will hit the big apple on August 9th with what could be one of their last tours...ever. I've seen them live two times now- first, at Bonnaroo 2005 for an unbelievable rock n' roll smash in the pouring fucking rain, hopped up on jack daniels and some random unidentifiable pill i swallowed courtesy of a friend i trust far too much; they played hits across the board (aren't all of their songs hits?), covered the stage in flickering candles and rocked out as if it were their opening tour. The second time I saw them at Madison Square Garden on New Year's rockin' eve, 2006. Granted, I don't remember much of that show. I do remember the overpriced beer, free champagne, counting down and hearing Remedy and Soul Singing wash over me in a sea of pyrotechnics and cheers. Needless to say, I think I had fun.

In July you can catch The Decemberists (check out their site, it is very sweet) on the 16th. I have yet to see them live, though I hear they are life-changing to see. I'll give you my very own opinion after I see them at Bonnaroo this year. Judging by their discography, they will be fucking sweet, to say the least. I put them on the top shelf, among the White Stripes (also hitting the Bonnaroo mainstage this June) tradition of actual musical artistry, which is hard to come by these days.

So... check it out. Summerstage. Oh yes.

SotD: Hollywood Kids by The Thrills

Day II at the WB offices and I have a bit of a corporate hangover. I used to get strange looks from my parents, extended family, ex-boyfriend, and upwardly mobile friends when I violently resisted the corporate life. "She'll come around," said their faces. I cringe. And for a while I managed to find my way around it (and will continue to). But this week's gig finds me at the heart of it. Is there a reason offices have to be so neutrally colorless? Are ripped jeans really that offensive? I was instructed to don "corporate casual."

I look at the execs, for whom I spend my day taking Starbucks orders, picking up lunch, running around the neighborhood to fill their ongoing needs, and I think how nice it would be to have so much control/power over my job. But then I think, did these people play the game from the bottom all the way up to the top? Because if I found my way up to the top, the first thing I would do would be to put an end to the game itself. Corporate is just an endless set of rules, tasks and the occasional slap-in-the-face moment of actual reality that quickly subsides back to business as usual. If I didn't already have a drinking problem, I would quickly develop one. No wonder we can't stop making war. We are starting to forget what living, breathing, heaving people are.

Mail. Click. Spreadsheet. Check. Coffee. Breathe. Life. Click.

A rock n' roll life for me. Today's song of the day was running through my head all day, surrounded by the Hollywood promo pics lining the office. Lush piano intro descending into slide guitar and full bass line, that So-Cal imitation accent from Irish lad Conor Deasy tiptoes in with lazy hollywood-will-wait-for-me steps, sighing over breathy harmonica. This song feels like the drive home, as the "sun sets on my boulevard."

...but leaves quite a shadow to fill.

SotD: One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer by George Thorogood

This song is on my "Get it Together" playlist and today feels like a get-it-together kind of day. You know, the kind of day where your bank balance is too low for you to withdraw any cash out of an ATM, your rent is late and your veins crave anything off the barroom shelf- if only you could find a benefactor. Ho hum... This song is my salvation, with it's driving rhythm, bluesy guitar and George's *scintillating* humor. ("...everybody funny. now you funny, too.")

A perfect track for a day that found me balancing trays of Starbucks practically on my head for CW Network production execs, fully clad in wonk attire dodging the 9-5ers on 6th ave. The warmest NY day to date, I found myself dreaming about a beer garden in Queens or a surf session at the Jersey Shore followed by- you bet- one bourbon, one scotch and one beer.

SOtD: The Difference by The Wallflowers

I am instating a song-of-the-day practice. Because, well, every day has a song and if you pay enough attention you can figure out what it is. (Sometimes it declares itself so bluntly that you don't need to do much digging.) I'm declaring The Wallflowers' "The Difference" today's- and the very first on this blog- song of the day.

Not the best song on their debut album, Bringing Down the Horse (See: Bleeders), but a good one nonetheless. It's catchy, but not too catchy. It's foot-tapping. And it's fucking old-school. I remember jumping around my room to this song in high school, fantasizing about Jakob Dylan laying those glowing blue eyes on me (among other things...).

And, the song contains one of my favorite Wallflowers lyrics:

They say that children now
They come in all ages
And maybe sometimes old men die
With little boy faces

Though the Wallflowers have been gliding down a downward slope ever since the release of their second album (to their credit, they did introduce me to the song Heroes, which led to my Bowie Awakening), their first album was and remains a little jewel. Just a reminder, in case your Bringing Down the Horse CD is sitting quietly in the corner, collecting dust.