Saw a Jerk/Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid double feature the other day, and it reminded me that Steve Martin's schmaltzy stuff tends to be hit-or-miss. For example, here's a miss, from LA Story, a movie I completely love otherwise. Here's a hit:
I've heard other versions of this song, and it works so much better as a duet.
How long must we, as Americans, wait for an album to come out by a successful musician? I highly recommend you read this article about the windy exodus from studio to iTunes of Sir Lucious Leftfoot, and why this track wasn't included on the release (you guys it is with Andre 3000. How fucking stupid do you have to be to fight an Andre 3000 collaboration on Big Boi's first ever solo album. That is insane.). And, of course, it's great.
This was just brought to my attention today, and it's incredible. I can think of few comparable American musical scenes (and I promise you, I LOVE American musicals; I am not trash-talking here).
This past week would have been Tupac's 39th birthday. I always felt like the biggest issue with 2pac's songs is that he wasn't really particularly grounded; while Biggie dealt with the day-to-day indignities of his own life, Pac tried to address the broader problems of the country and the world. Biggie was successful at being intimate, and his personal became political. But 2pac was uninterested in shades of gray, and his universal themes tended toward the maudlin. BUT, like the best heavy metal, the more ridiculous, the more accidentally insightful. In his Thugz Mansion, he describes a glorious afterlife for gangstas, and honestly, it's how I'd like to end up. Nas' involvement on the song seems kismetic (YUP, KISMETIC), since his weaknesses tend to manifest themselves somewhat like 2pac's (though I think he's stronger overall).
So I didn't realize this, but I've been posting in this blog for more than a full year, which is longer than I do most blogs I've ever tried. So here's a mixtape, twelve songs for twelve months. My challenge here is that I'm trying to use only artists never before appearing on this blog. If one slips in, whatever. 1.
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Download the whole entire playlist, including pictures, here.
I used to try to get people to think this was my theme song. It isn't, but I do mooch off people. I actually at one point made a list of potential rap nicknames (how old was I during this stupid activity? EIGHTEEN.) and "Minnie tha Moocher" was in the top three. Fact. And this cartoon's so awesome. Not to be nostalgic for a bygone era, but I love the way old cartoons would serve as music videos.
There should be more of that today (outside the band Gorillaz).
I think this song is very sweet and funny in surprising ways. Even though it's a gimmicky song, it speaks to the kind of emotion when you just cannot understand what you're doing wrong, why the people around you don't seem to get what you're about and why you can't make them happy. And who can't relate to that?
Once, in my car, (Dan)'s brother tried to suggest that Kanye West was the opposite of punk (this was used insultingly; (Dan)'s brother strongly believes in the power of punk). Honestly, I am willing to listen to critiques of Kanye, but I think this song is about as punk as radio-played-rap usually gets. It's an entire song devoted to the idea that increasing disposable income and flash among oppressed minorities does not free them from the real systemic problems facing their communities. Kanye's a weird kind of rapper; his music is so much more thoughtful and introspective than he seems to actually be, based on interviews and the like. "We all self-conscious, I'm just the first to admit it," is an incredible line, suddenly making this song about conspicuous consumption personal. I'd ask punks to revisit this song, I really would.
Dag, it's been like three months since I last posted a Nina Simone thing here, but this song has been spending some time in my brain lately. About a year ago, I saw a one-man show about the life and career of George Gershwin. He discussed how this song was a musical oddity. Something about progressions of notes or something. I dunno. But since then every few months I spend a week just going I loves you PorGEEE. And Nina Simone does these great stutters throughout. I am not selling you on any ideas that are new to you.
This is such a weird, fascinating cover. I don't remember when I started, but there was a time when I listened incessantly to Jeff Buckley's Live at Sin-E. I suspect it had something to do with the relative paucity of his recorded works, but I devoured this live album so often I had his onstage banter memorized. ("Uh, this song's for the lovers. I forgot to say before, but all these songs are for the lovers.") Anyway, he goes on at length about his love of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan ("He's my Elvis. I listen to him every day"), whom he worried would become too mainstream if Buckley talked about him too often (HEY JEFF YOU SHOULD HAVE WORRIED THAT LEONARD COHEN'S HALLELUJAH WOULD BE TOO OFTEN COVERED AFTER YOUR ARGUABLY DEFINITIVE VERSION). He then sings this song, urging the audience to "clap like they do in Pakistan." During my formative years stalking down albums in the White Plains Public Library, I finally found a couple of albums of Nusrat, including one of the various best-ofs that included Yeh Jo Halka. I planned on loving the original version, and being so obscure that I didn't listen to Jeff Buckley; I listened to the music he LISTENED to. But honestly, I wasn't totally into it. It was cool, but it was sort of missing the weird, awkward spirit that embodies Buckley's cover. And honestly, that's how I feel about Hallelujah too.
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