IS THAT ALL THERE IS?: THE FIRST YEAR OUT OF COLLEGE MIXTAPE
UNDERDOG (SLY & THE FAMILY STONE) This song is like drinking orange juice to start the day right. Sly & the Family are always perfect for highway driving because they make it feel like you're laying down the righteous path with every mile. I mean, I'm sure you all know how I feel about horn sections by now, and this song has some fierce horn action. And, of course, the song is all about how those fuckers don't think you'll make it, but your fiery will is the secret weapon, and they never EVER see it coming. Highly recommended for morning rush hour commutes, driving in to work overtime, and other stressful situations.
PUNKS IN THE BEERLIGHT (THE SILVER JEWS) This song is the thesis statement in the term paper on nostalgia. Rather, this is the thesis statement: "If we'd known/what it'd take to get here/would we have chosen to/ would we have chosen to?" Unless you're a Scientologist or something, the answer is probably YES because a doomed past is something to work with. A lot of people who love the Silver Jews are really in it for the quiet strumminess, and accordingly a lot of them don't seem to enjoy this tarnished tinfoil halo of a song, but what can I say? I LOVED YOU TO THE MAX.
IS THAT ALL THERE IS? (CRISTINA) As far as poetry is concerned, the split between sentimentality and sarcasm is one of my favorite polarities. Even though those two stances exist in opposition to each other, there is occasionally a moment where they slip over each other. Those moments are crucial in my favorite kinds of poetry, and maybe my favorite kinds of art in general--art that performs the conjuring trick of making vulnerability both emotionally genuine and tough. Probably I find it difficult to articulate because I find it difficult to reproduce in my own work. In any case, every Cristina track is an impeccable example of such balance. Really, the orginal Peggy Lee version of this song captures the same balance, but Cristina improved on its look-into-the-void chirpiness by transposing the lyrics via dancing boys, abusive relationships, suicide, and the broken glass/cuckoo clock/tenor solo trope. You know the one. As of today, this is my favorite song ever. IS THAT ALL THERE IS TO A DISCO?
I'M A WONDERFUL THING, BABY (KID CREOLE & THE COCONUTS) I loved Reading Rainbow, especially the shows that examined the daily life in New York and showed people with fascinating careers going about their business (baking bread, making incredible basketball-shaped cakes, you get the picture). On the "careers" episode, Lamar Burton ends it by adjusting his jacket, crazy Transformer style, into some mariachi sleeves and a tackyass cockateal patch, putting on some sunglasses and strutting off into the sunset. I think I internalized this image as a pretty salient definition for "career," because this year, the Year of the Job, I found myself really enjoying obnoxious disco soul train skeeze--my own mariachi sleeves and tackyass parrot. And that's where Kid Creole and the Coconuts come into the picture: perfect for 5:00 sunsets and freeways, and just wonderfully heinous enough to make it, you know, "edgy." (But DON'T say "funky." Funky is the most disappointing word in the dictionary.) MAKE SURE THAT YOU BREATHE/SO YOU DON'T BREAK YOUR BACK/OR GET A HEART ATTACK.
I NEED SOME LOVE IN MY LIFE (SOLOMON BURKE) Ah, but this has never the less been the year of soul and blues for me. Sometimes I drive up to the abandoned town swimming pool to smoke (because let's face it, I can't let the children see me smoke), and I fix my goofy little pompadour in the rearview mirror, and I'm listening to Solomon Burke and it may as well be the 50s. Because a lot of things about the human heart don't change, I guess. I MISS YOUR MIDNIGHT INVITATIONS/I NEED YOUR SOUL/SOUL CONFIRMATIONS.
WE RUN THIS (MISSY ELLIOTT) I love Missy Elliott so much. I'm turning into a crazy drooling fan girl. She's, like, my role model now becuase 1) she doesn't take shit 2) she's funny 3) she does not hesitate to praise herself. Also, to quote Missy herself, "I'm a bad mamma jamma/got grammar/mutherfucker y'aint got it like me." The point is, this song was the theme of grad school acceptances this year, especially that very first one. OH, and it has a marching band in it. OH, and the line, "GOT MY FOOT ON THE CLUTCH/SEE ME BOUNCE MY BUTT/MISDEMEANOR TOO MUCH/AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK." Which sums it up nicely.
MELANIN (DIPLOMATS) It's safe to say that this was the Year of the Car for me, particularly regarding music. Most of my time for listening to music was rush hour, baby, and I don't doubt that this has altered my habits. For one thing, I spent an inordinate number of drives home listening to Diplomatic Immunity Part Two, which was strange because if my students knew that I listened to such ridiculous thug music, I would lose all of my educational authority. The presiding sentiment on this record is "Don't you want to be a gangster, too?" but this song is decidedly different because it does what 50 refuses to: acknowledges the horrible entrapment of stereotype/cultural authenticity, including the mystique of the thug. Also, the beat is some kind of subdivided 6/8 thing, and I'm a fool for subdivision.
DIAMONDS IN THE MINE (LEONARD COHEN) Wait, why did I think this album would have more than ONE uptempo song on it? I think I decided to get into the Leonard Cohen thing because it Seemed like the Thing to Do, this being my first year out of College and in the Real World. I don't know. Last year I thought I would be living in Bloomfield, being all distressed and artisty or something, and Leonard Cohen records seemed to fit into that picture pretty damn well. But then I listened to the album (coincidentally, while I was driving home for Thanksgiving in a raging snow storm in hellish once-a-year traffic), I got to the really depressing Cohen songs (yeah, all of them) and I was like OH SHIT I NEED TO TURN THIS OFF OR IT WILL KILL ME WHILE I'M DRIVING. Well, anyway, this is the one song that I'm attached to. The time for the rest of them will probably come eventually. AND THERE ARE NO LETTERS IN THE MAILBOX! AND THERE ARE NO GRAPES UPON THE VINE! AND THERE ARE! NO! CHOCOLATES IN YOUR BOXES ANYMORE! AND THERE ARE ARE! NO! DIAMONDS IN THE MINE!
WRONG TIME CAPSULE (DEERHOOF) In the big box of early-90s rock allusions, distortion and minor chords are classic, like that black and white striped sweater you've most definitely grown out of by now. But really, I haven't grown out of most of the feelings I associate with sitting in the back of the school bus circa '94. If you'd let me free-associate for a moment: sleeveless puke green sweater vests, Farrah Fawcet, the pre-ridiculous Delia's catalogue (which, by the way, was achingly cool for a while), big jeans, hot rollers, blue nail polish, vending machine necklaces, rainy weather, grey flannel. Anyway, I love it when bands I already like dip into the grunge songbook and come up with a "pop song" that totally fails to be a pop song in ANY COGENT WAY. I swear I'm not like TRYING really hard to like difficult music, this is just the way it is. I freaking love Deerhoof. WHEN YOU HUNGER NUMBER ONE/IT'S THE WONDER & THE FUN. Also, once I tried to explain to a friend why Deerhoof's lyrics come closer to poetry (for me) than a lot of other post-whatever bands, but I didn't do a good job and sounded really pretentious to boot. Whatever. <3 <3 <3 DEER MOTHERFUCKIN HOOF!
OUT IN THE STREET (THE SHANGRI-LAS) Okay, how unsurprising is it that I love girl groups of the '60s? But the Shangri-Las are in a league of their own, really. Harmonizing and hand-clapping, yes, but the best thing about them is the wrung-out melodrama of, like, every single song. Motorcycle accidents, accidents involving train tracks, and a song about a girl who runs away from home to be with a boy, but her mother DIES of HEARTBREAK and the girl can never go home again. So dripping mascara it hurts. This song in particular is about a girl who gets the greaser dreamboat and tames him, but realizes that in doing so she's taken away his spirit: HE DON'T/HANG AROUND/WITH THE GANG NO MORE/HE DON'T WEAR THOSE DIRTY OLD BLACK BOOTS NO MORE/HIS HEART/IS OUT IN THE STREET. And she realizes that she has to let him go. God, being 16 you really do know everything.
THIS MUST BE THE PLACE (TALKING HEADS) Have you ever seen that part of "Stop Making Sense" where David Byrne dances with the lamp by tipping it over in one direction and barely catching it before it hits the floor? I didn't see the movie until I was already in deep deep love with this song, so when I finally got to that scene, it completely captured my heart. Somebody more literal or scholarly could probably disect that image to explain why it's so hopeful and transcendent, but I'm not that person. If Zach and I were an old married couple, this would be our song. AND YOU'LL LOVE! ME! TIL! MY HEART STOPS! LOVE ME TIL I'M DEAD!
A NERVOUS TICK MOTION OF THE HEAD TO THE LEFT (ANDREW BIRD) This is one of those songs that you remember perfectly from the first time you hear it. Being smarmy and updating the iPod and living a sophisticated modern life are boring to me when I compare them to songs like this, with swooping whistling and emotional generosity.
DESOLATION ROW (DYLAN) In the Dylan Songbook, this is certainly one of the more depressing entries. But to me, the most chilling line is about Ophelia: "For her I feel so afraid/On her 22nd birthday/She already is an old maid." Oh shit. That's me, isn't it? I'm afraid it might be. Every time I listened to this song, that line took the air right out of me.
I SUMMON YOU (SPOON) The summer after graduation was strange and lonely. I sat around my new apartment (jobless) trying to figure out what kind of person I was. I did that for about two weeks before I realized how ridiculous it was. At that point I started knitting again, and watching long Russian movies. I wasn't depressed, but I didn't know what else I was. And I feel the same way now. Not sad, but not all of the other things, either. Calm and confused.
CRAZY (GNARLS BARKLEY) This is a much more recent addition, and in hindsight it'll probably become the crucial must-have of summer 06 the way Arular was last summer's CRUCIAL jam. And yes, liking this song is a very trendy choice of mine, but can we just stop caring about that for a second? Because I've been waiting forever for somebody to drop the punk schmuck guitar tricks and get back to some real SOUL music. St. Elsewhere is a very encouraging sign. Also, I like songs that tell me it's okay to be crazy. Liberation!
As an afterword: I almost feel like I have to apologize for the scattered nature of this year's mix, but I'm trying really hard not to do so. It's been a scattered year, I think, being trapped halfway between collegelandia and the big-shoulders world where everybody drinks spritzers and talks about, of all things, healthcare and car insurance and school board politics. Something in me wants to fight it. That's the part of me that doesn't brush her hair and secretly hates waxed eyebrows. That's the part of me that listens to Deerhoof and Dipset and all of that stuff on the weekends, wearing outfits that are if anything crazier than my outfits from collegelandia. But I do have some beige pencil skirts in the closet. And I have a suspicion that my wild years are over.
I'm almost certainly wrong about that.
