I will never, ever do a radio show here without a Ramones slice. Period.
SHILOH – Neil Diamond
This song always makes me think of The Bridge to Terabithia. Young friends, loyalty, soaked in the sunshine of the early 70’s, my own youth. Well, maybe a few years before I was running around myself. Also for some reason this song makes me think of my college girlfriend sneaking food outta the dining hall to bring me, as I was living off-campus. I dunno why this song makes me think of that; maybe it was at that time of my life I had discovered this song. Regardless, her roommate, whom I was in love with the whole time, loved Neil Diamond too…and if my girlfriend had ever found out it would’ve been, like the Civil War battle of the same name, a bloodbath. Bullet, dodged! (Also dodged: a life of happiness, of knowing what it’s like to share a life and love with another human being instead of having a bed with no sheets. Shew! That was close!!)
DON’T BE AFRAID - Bombpop
Fellow Westerberg worshippers from Charlottesville, VA…mostly this song has always struck me with the “all you ever wanted, was to to get out of this town.” The small-town boy clarion call. Being from a small town myself, I know that feeling; I remember busting out of Tappahannock, VA when I hit 18 and diving right into…Farmville, VA. Which, it being a college town meant it actually had a bar in town, so it was technically a step up. Upon graduating I finally shed the shackles of small-town life by heading to…Oxford, Mississippi. Hmm. At this rate, but the time I’m 70 I’ll be living in a town the size of Angelina Jolie’s nursery. Big City, Mrs. Ruth Ann indeed.
LOVE BARGE – Big Dipper
Super-slice. Period. Just occurred to me, is this band named after Wilt Chamberlain? Wasn’t that one of his nicknames? Interestingly enough, Wilt and I do have one thing in common. He famously slept with 20,000 women, and I famously pissed the mattress at Spring Break ’95, after which while we were out the maid put the mattress outside our door to “air out”, ensuring that every single hot, horny chick down in Fla for some cheap, anonymous fucking would know who Piss-Boy was and make sure he would spend the night in his room, alone, watching the NBA playoffs instead of hittin some skins. Jesus, where does Wilt stop and I begin? Bizarre.
I ASKED FOR WHISKEY – Mississippi Fred McDowell
Rainy Sunday mornings call for songs about whiskey. That’s all. And I like how he spends one verse basically just counting. Awesome. And then at the end of the choruses during the turnarounds to go back into the verse, he always seems to get stuck, no idea how to get back to the chorus so just goes on and on for a spell til the answer kicks in. It’s tough to NOT sound super-authentic as a cotton-picking bluesman when you’re called “Mississippi”, isn’t it? When somebody says “oh, here comes Mississippi ____________”, you never roll your eyes thinking “Christ, ANOTHER Cornell lawyer Larchmont motherfucker…” What if his parents had actually NAMED his “Mississippi”, which for a long time he resented, feeling like he had no choice but being a grizzled, dirt-poor homeless blues musician - and had in fact added the “Fred” himself to try to get into accounting school? Now see, THAT would be interesting to me.
DREAM LOVER – Bobby Darin
Everytime I hear this song, I think of some show that was on in the late 80’s…can’t remember the name, only that it took place in the early 60’s and the father was played by the guy who played Adam Sandler’s father in Big Daddy. Anyways, we were watching the show one night, and the classic “Wipeout” came on during some scene. Coincidentally, the Fat Boy’s “version” of “Wipeout” was out at the time. Now, at the age of 15 I had already become an expert on 50s/60s music…most of which I’ve forgotten by now. Sistatime!, however, being only 10 years old,was not as cultured as yours truly. When “Wipeout” started playing on the show, she scrunched up her nose as if someone had just cut one, and said in a voice dripping with disdain “Whhhhhaaaat? Wipeout isn’t an old song!” Christ. 15, I felt like I had liver spots BURSTING all over me.
DOWN THE LINE – Buddy Holly
My favorite Buddy song. I think I’ve mentioned before somewhere on here about getting shitfaced in college and deciding to try to call his parents in Lubbock. Hmm. Shame I never got through; I’m sure we’d be great friends to this day. They prolly would’ve adopted me!
Buddy’s dad: “Xmas, you remind us so much of Buddy.”
Xmas: “I do??!?!!
Buddy’s dad: “Well. Maybe. I don’t know. Not really.”
Xmas: “I love you too…dad.”
OH NO! THAT FUNNY FEELING – Camper Van Beethoven
This one keeps me frozen in time, Summer of 1987. To quote:
Most albums I love somehow remind me of fall or winter, and this is the only album I've ever loved that reminds me of burnt, dead summer grass in 98 degree heat. Summer of 1987, my first summer of freedom (my brother having gotten his license); thanks mostly to RRTHUR and a tape of "Burning Ambitions", I without a doubt found more amazing songs and bands that I still love today during that summer than any 3-month stretch before or since. First summer I hung out at French's parking lot. One of only 2 sophomores to make varsity that year, I can still feel what a thrill it was when the Northern Neck football preview came out in the paper and Coach Lewis took 2 paragraphs to talk about how good I looked, the promise I held. Summer my brother and I started working on the horse farm. Boy. I promise you I have never had a summer that good since. Ah well.Boy, was I right…every summer since HAS sucked…how’d I know that? So prescient…I should play the lotto!
Another fearless prediction: I will see no titties today. Book it!
NOT THIS TIME – The Black Diamonds
Sounds like an up-tempo outtake from Beatles for Sale. Listening to the main chorus, why didn’t they name the song “Not Tonight”? Christ…”Not this time”, “not tonight”…I’ll take “Things Women Usually Say To Me About 4 Minutes Before the Police Show Up" for $1000, Alex.
BREAKFAST IN BED – Dusty Springfield
Now this is a rainy Sunday morning slicety-slice-slcie, n’est pas? I just saw a quote from her, from 1973:
“I mean, people say that I'm gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay. I'm not anything.”
I’m sorry, Dusty – but yes, if somebody calls you something 7 times, that’s what you are. Period. If you think that– hold on, sorry; getting a phone call from shifty, shifty, shifty, shifty, shifty, shifty, shifty Kam Sing, my food might be here…
No comments:
Post a Comment