David Bromberg "Sharon"

Billy Crystal, back during his 80s stand up days, had this joke about how he knew he was getting old when his daughter asked him if he knew that Paul McCartney was in a band before Wings.

Yeah, when you're born creates the context, doesn't it. And sometimes---I'll even say often, now that Rock N Roll has a multi-generational history---you are more likely to know the spawn than the originator.

One of my all-time favorite albums is "Paul's Boutique," a record that still stacks up to any full-length creation out there, but was even more-so stunningly dense in its day.

Created before the rules on sampling were altered (due to a lawsuit), the record simply couldn't be made these days, because of the many, many sources The Beastie Boys and their producers The Dust Brothers, sampled from.

Even back then, I could pick up a number of the samples, including The Beatles "The End" and "Those Shoes" by The Eagles, but most of the loops and snippets and riffs were unfamiliar to me. They just sounded cool.

What a remarkable delight it was, to find out a friend had created a playlist on Spotify encompassing most all the original tunes that were sampled on "Paul's Boutique." 70 songs and over 5 hours of listening!

I can't tell you how many times I've grooved along to "Johnny Ryall." But in the nearly 25 years I've known and heard the Beasties' song, not once had I ever heard the David Bromberg song that forms its basis, "Sharon."

When "Sharon" came out in the very early 70s, I was still a pup, and I guess it had disappeared from the airwaves by the time my 80s rock-radio-listening years happened.

Now I know you old Bromberg fans probably feel like you're reading a post from a guy who'd never heard about The Beatles . . . but it was a thrill for me to hear the riff, in its original state.


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Judd Fuller, Liam Bailey, Tom Major "The Red Sox Game!"

The New England Sport Nation Highway is littered with terrible, terrible attempts at creating a hit song to be played at a Patriots, Bruins, Celtics or Red Sox game.

Generally, they're hokey. Or poorly done. Or just bad.

But every once and a while, you get a "Tessie" instead of a "New England, The Patriots And We."

A group of our favorite Islanders have taken a stab a glory with this one. And I have to say, it's just insanely catchy enough, that it could work.

Good luck, guys!


See the video on Youtube.


See the video on Youtube.


See the video on Youtube.

Julio Iglesias "To All The Girls I've Loved Before"

Believe it or not, when I hear this song, I think of hurricanes and their aftermath.

It was 19 years ago this month that I was living in South Florida when Hurricane Andrew devastated whole sections of cities south of Miami.

In the weeks following the destruction, Miami celebrities put together a major benefit show.

I happened to be dating a DJ at the time, and she had tickets. So we found ourselves just 20 rows from the stage in the massive, filled, Joe Robbie Stadium (home of the Dolphins).

If I remember correctly, Gloria Estefan was the organizer and she pulled in a crazily diverse roster of Miami-connected artists and friends.

It's perhaps not surprising that she had Celia Cruz perform with her. You wouldn't blink at the idea of Jimmy Buffett playing in South Florida. You may or may not remember that The BeeGees based themselves out of Miami. And you could probably picture that Estefan roped her friend Andy Garcia into playing some percussion during her set.

But also on the bill . . . Paul Simon, Weird Al Yankovic, Whoopie Goldberg (who sang "Shout") and Stephen Stills.

But best, and weirdest, of all, was Julio Iglesias.

I mean, when was I ever going to see Julio Iglesias in concert? Only a massive hurricane and a fortuitous relationship with a DJ could have made the possible.

He was handsome. He was tan. He lip-synced.

At least I'm pretty sure he was lip-syncing. Because I couldn't otherwise explain how there seemed to be a full backing band of musicians, though he was the only one on the stage.

But hey, he showed up, right? I'm glad he came along, and I dedicate this song, to all the hurricanes, Irene included, that I've loved before.


See the video (and Oprah, lip-syncing) on Youtube.


See one of the funniest Willie Nelson imitations ever, on Youtube.

Leadbelly "Goodnight Irene"

Care to guess how many times this song will get played across the East Coast this weekend?


Hear the song on Youtube.

OK Go "The Muppet Show Theme"

Well, you've probably already seen this, unless you don't have internet access at work (or they block Youtube).

Since it's the weekend and you might have more time to check it out, I figured I'd post it. Make sure you watch to the end!

On a side note I noticed that here (and also in the trailer for the new Muppet Movie) they have brought back Crazy Harry the mad bomber Muppet, who had largely disappeared in the Post 9/11 World, where bearded fanatics blowing things up just isn't quite so funny anymore.


See the video on Youtube.

Stereophonics "Traffic"

This week, I'm looking at artists that we came to play later in their career, asking the question "should we go back and play the band's earlier tracks?"

Here's a bit of a spin on this week's theme . . . what about a band that we did play, but didn't really end up following. As in, we played something from several albums ago, but didn't ever play anything from subsequent records. If they have an old song that's really great, is it worth it to put into rotation?

We haven't added a new Stereophonics song to the station since 2003's "Maybe Tomorrow."

But if you go back to the 90s, they have a fantastic song called "Traffic."

If you're a people-watcher, this is a great song for you, as the narrator is stuck in traffic, looking at the woman in the next car and imagining what her story might be.

Great tune, but to go back to the original issue (which I talked about on Monday), if you play an old song, you only play it infrequently. And if you play it infrequently, it isn't familiar to the listeners. And if there isn't familiarity, well, you lose a chunk of your listeners to someone else down the dial. Unless, the song is so arresting that even though the listener hasn't heard it before, they are captivated by it.

So (if you've never heard this song before), are you captivated?


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Ben Folds Five "Best Imitation Of Myself"

This week, I'm looking at artists that we came to play later in their career, asking the question "should we go back and play the band's earlier tracks?"

What a fun coincidence!

Ben Folds was one of the first names I thought of, when I planned this week's theme. I am a huge fan of his early work, but understand why we never really played any Ben Folds Five tracks on mvyradio, in the band's late-1990s incarnation.

How amazing is it that just yesterday came word that Ben has reunited with Darren Jesse and Robert Sledge (the original Ben Folds Five) to record a couple of new tracks for a Best Of Ben Folds set?!

Okay, so going back . . .

I loved Ben Folds Five's albums, because they seemed to fit perfectly into my life at the time.

In the mid-and-late-90s, I was young and single. I was listening to a lot of melodic pop (like Matthew Sweet) and a lot of melodic Punk (like The Descendants). And, like much of my generation, I was awash in a weird mix of irony and detachment and drama.

Ben Folds Five seemed like the ideal of my musical world. I loved the noise, I loved the tunefulness, I loved the smart and I loved the snark.

And I played the hell out of these records on my Alternative specialty show on WABN in Virginia.

But as the 90s gave way to the 2000s, I knew that Ben Folds Five wouldn't translate to my new station, mvyradio.

mvyradio's audience was slightly older than the average Alternative Radio listener. The artists we were playing a decade ago were not of the generation of detached irony. They were not noisy. They were not snarky.

Increasingly, neither was I. As my 20s gave way to my 30s, and maturity took hold, a gentler sound gradually entered my life.

And all along, I knew that it would happen to Ben Folds, too.

He had disbanded the Five, and gone solo, and I knew that as he grew and matured and moved from his 30s into his 40s, it was likely that his sound would evolve to something more in-line with mvyradio and Triple A Format station.

"Landed" from his 2005 album "Songs For Silverman" was the first Ben Folds tune that seemed to really make sense for the station. It's a song about marriage and old friends and epiphanies and reconciliation. Not theme you write about, or relate to, as an single 20-something.

But now looking back over his full career, are their songs from the early days that we could play? Are there tunes that would fit easily?

Funny enough, Ben is looking back over his career too, with the release of the 3-Disc set "The Best Imitation Of Myself," featuring the song of the same title.

Is there anything about this song that makes it sound like something we wouldn't play?

And now that Ben has worked again with his old band---the group that made a joyful noise, too snarky for mvyradio---are they making music that sounds like their young selves, picking up where they left off a decade ago? Or are they reconvening as adults, not the same guys they were in the 90s?

What do you think? Is the new song, or the old song, something we should be playing?

Hear the new Ben Folds Five song, "House."


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Ben Lee "Pop Queen"

This week, I'm looking at artists that we came to play later in their career, asking the question "should we go back and play the band's earlier tracks?"

I can remember when "Pop Queen" came out, and I thought it was a little pop gem, that sounded great on alternative radio.

But compare it to the more modern day Ben Lee (see "Love Me Like The World Is Ending" below), it hardly seems polished, and in fact seems kinda primitive.

Through the long lens, while "Pop Queen" is an important song in Ben Lee's career, and it has its own shambolic charm, it probably wouldn't be up to snuff, to take this old song and put it in rotation at mvy . . .


See the video on Youtube.


See the video on Youtube.

Nickel Creek "The Lighthouse's Tale"

This week, I'm looking at artists that we came to play later in their career, asking the question "should we go back and play the band's earlier tracks?"

I can remember sometime around 2000, being in the mvyradio production room with Barbara. I'd been telling her about a band I'd seen at Merlefest the year before, that I thought might be a good fit for mvy.

Nickel Creek had just released their first major record, and I had had an early window into this band, as they had played the North Carolina festival as teenagers, wowing both the crowd and the older musicians with their progressive excellence.

"The Lighthouse's Tale" had even made a ripple on CMT, where the video was getting some play.

Barbara and I listened, and I can remember her comment: It was good, but it wasn't quite there.

Where was "There" I asked myself? And, truthfully, I still ask myself that question, most every day, about half the songs that cross my path.

If you were looking at baseball stats, you could easily quantify when something was "There."

(What's that? Pedro has thrown 110 pitches? Then for God's Sake, take him out of the game! He's There!)

But with art, you can't quantify things as easily.

It makes sense, of course. Some bands are strong enough, some songs are strong enough, that they deserve to get regular airplay. And some bands and songs are not strong enough.

But where is that line?

That's the "There" Barbara was talking about.

Nickel Creek's early, self-released albums probably weren't even close to being mature or strong enough for regular airplay. And Nickel Creek's second major release was strong enough---we did play "This Side."

But that first major release, well, it was close, but we didn't end up playing it, because it didn't quite cross that arbitrary line of "There."

So now it's many years later, and we've played a bunch of Nickel Creek songs in regular rotation. They have built up a reputation as a quality band. They have a fan base and a recognizable sound.

We could go back and add it to rotation. But should we?

Is there "There" there now?


See the video on Youtube.

Travis "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?"

If you discover a band after their fourth or fifth record, do you go back and buy their old records?

As a music consumer, I usually do, figuring that if I like the new stuff, there is probably some older stuff I might like too.

But as a music programmer, it's a little harder to do that.

Meaning, if we start playing a band on mvyradio, five albums into their career, do we go back to their old albums and start to play their old songs too?

It certainly works that way, going forward. Meaning, that once we've brought a band into the mvyradio World, we are more likely to play songs from subsequent albums. If we like a band enough to add them, then we like them enough to follow them forward.

But backwards is harder, and here's why . . .

When a new song goes into rotation, we play it a lot. If it really resonates with the audience, we'll play it a couple of times a day, every day, for several months on end.

As a programmer, you do this to build familiarity. If a song is strong enough to withstand months of spins before people start to get sick of it, then it is probably sturdy enough to become a permanent member of our rotation. Songs that make it to this point might get played once a week.

So let's take Travis for an example.

They put out several very good albums, but for some reason, they never quite seemed to be a band that we wanted to put into full rotation.

By 2007, when they put out the song "Closer," they had evolved enough, and mvyradio had evolved enough, that it seemed to make sense.

And it sounded great on the air, as we played it very frequently for a few months, and now play it every 7 days or so. It's familiar enough at this point, that you don't have to play it often. People recognize it and remember it.

Listening to "Closer" and the album "The Boy With No Name" sent me back to older Travis songs. And I kind of think that they have several songs that are really good, and could potentially be a good fit for the station.

But we can't suddenly start playing "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?" which is a 10+ year old song, twice a day for months on end. That would be weird.

And if we only played it once a week, well, for most of the mvyradio audience, it's a completely unfamiliar tune, and would come up so infrequently that the average listener would never become familiar with it.

Then again, it's a pretty great song.

So all this week, old songs by bands that we now play. I'm asking you, are they good enough to overcome that hurdle of lack-of-familiarity?

What do you think of "Why Does It Always Rain On Me?" and "Flowers In The Window"?


See the video on Youtube.


See the video on Youtube.


See the video on Youtube.

The Refreshments "Banditos"

Here's another Weekend Post:

In conjunction with yesterday's post . . . here's another band that had a fun 90s alternative Power Pop hit, but is more likely financially secure because they gave some of their music to a humble TV series, which turned out to be a 10 Year long, and now-forever-in-syndication hit. Even though it's an instrumental, I but you can sing the theme song to "King Of The Hill."

But I always thought "Banditos" was clever enough to have a longer life than it ever did . . .


See the video on Youtube.


Hear the full song on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Nerf Herder "Van Halen"

Here's another Weekend Post:

After last weekend's Weekend Posts about Pop Power Alterna-rockers, I had this one pop into my head, and for a second, I wondered whatever became of this band.

Then I remembered that beyond having a couple of fun alternative hits, they actually have a secure spot in the Pop Culture Pantheon (with some nice music licensing paychecks that must come at regular intervals). This is the band that does the theme song to Buffy The Vampire Slayer, which is still in syndication and gets National airplay every day.


See the video on Youtube.


Hear The Buffy Theme on Youtube.

How the band Nerf Herder got its name!

See it on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Toad The Wet Sprocket "Walk On The Ocean"

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

In our current issue of Cape Cod Magazine, we asked 21 notable people for their five favorite memories through the five senses. Kevin Youkilis, John Kerry, Tim Daley, NPR’s Michele Norris and the Bachelorette’s Chris Lambton were some of many who made some thoughtful and creative contributions to our challenge. I was amazed at how many people said their favorite site was that of the Sagamore or Bourne Bridge, the two iconic symbols of arriving at Cape Cod. To them, it must signify the beginning of a great time, far away from one’s troubles and stresses of everyday life. It makes me think of that feeling you get when you first catch a glimpse of something that you know is going to be remarkable.

I was never a Toad the Wet Sprocket fan when they were at their peak in the early Nineties, but I always thought they had a unique sound. When I finally burned a bunch of their songs years ago, I started to appreciate them more. Great acoustic guitars rhythms. A lead singer with a distinctly melodic voice. Lyrics you could have some fun analyzing. That opening verse of their hit “Walk on the Water,” makes me think of that anticipation:

We spotted the ocean
At the head of the trail
Where are we going?
So far away.
And somebody told me
That this is the place
Where everything’s better
Everything’s safe.

They barrel into the chorus, with an accordion accompaniment that even sounds okay to someone (me) who doesn’t particularly care for the accordion in contemporary rock music. But then it all starts to fall apart for the subject of the song. The weekend/vacation/summer is over, and you must return your ho-hum life in some polluted city somewhere. The final verse of the song sums it up quite succinctly:

Now we're back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
And people don't know you
And trust is a joke.
We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold
That grow sweeter each season
As we slowly grow old

It slows to a stop and the song, like the escape, is over. We permanent residents on the Cape and Islands don’t get this feeling anymore. But we relate to your pain. And we gather on Route 6 on Labor Day afternoon to wave good-bye. If you come back, great. We’d love to have you. But even if you don’t return, you’ll have those memories “that grow sweeter each season.”


See the music video on Youtube.


Hear the full song, but not music video.

Don Henley "Sunset Grill"

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

1984. It was an interesting year for a variety of reasons. It was also the year The Eagles’ drummer/sometimes lead singer Don Henley released his second solo album, Building the Perfect Beast.

It was a huge hit. Featured heavy hitting collaborators—Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham, Heartbreaker Mike Campbell, Go-Go Belinda Carlisle, and Patty Smyth. Chock full of radio singles, too. You might think I am going to talk about “Boys of Summer,” right? That quintessential end-of-summer ditty paying homage to the summer fling that gave Henley a Grammy the following year.

Actually, no. “Boys of Summer” is a great song, don’t get me wrong. But it has gotten a little too much airplay over the years, and it is flat-out too straightforward lyrically. We get it: Summer’s over and you’re still thinking about that girl, “her brown skin shining in the sun” with her “Wayfarers on, baby.”

The song that has stuck with me over the decades is “Sunset Grill.” Supposedly it is about a hamburger place on Sunset Boulevard, but really anyone can claim that it is about their favorite place to hang out. And since that “Boys of Summer” song is so prevalent on that album, well most of us could probably assume that the subject of this song is our favorite place to frequent while on vacation.

Summer hangouts. Cape Cod is full of ‘em. And we all have our favorites. Since I live on the Upper Cape, I think of the Chart Room in Cataumet or the Raw Bar in Popponesset Village. But for others, it could easily be Baxter’s in Hyannis, Brax Landing in Harwich, Sundancer’s in Dennis, or the Beachcomber in Wellfleet.

Henley’s melody about this mythical watering hole is dreamy one moment and angry the next. Kudos to a young Randy Newman who orchestrated the synthesizer symphony. As they come off that solo, they begin a steady rise with the last verse: “Maybe we’ll leave come springtime/Meanwhile, I’ll have another beer/What’ll we do without these jerks anyway/Besides, all our friends are here.” It’s a statement of loyalty to place, made ten times stronger than any phrase from Toby Keith’s “I Love This Bar.” While other songs about hangouts may be more popular—Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” comes to mind—nothing quite accomplishes that feeling when you sit on an easy chair with a beer, “stare out at the auburn sky,” and know that you would never leave if you didn’t have to.

Hear the song at Grooveshark:

Crosby Still And Nash "Southern Cross"

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

Being that we are on a peninsula that juts into the Atlantic Ocean, one can imagine how strong the sailing community is on Cape Cod. Whether you are a regatta racer, or just like to cruise around the bay, Cape Cod is a sailor’s playground. Nothing reminds me of this lifestyle more than Crosby, Stills and Nash’s “Southern Cross.”

The premise is great: Man loses woman. Man hops on a sailboat for a long-distance journey in which he can gather his thoughts. Man finally realizes what went wrong in the relationship. Granted, every time I listen to it, I wonder about some other bit of symbolism in the song. The accompanying music is pretty simple; every novice guitarist learns the chords to impress some “woman/girl” at a campfire. But it nonetheless is one of the most classic riffs of all time.

I always liked the song. But it meant a lot more to me when I actually got to see the Southern Cross while sailing across the Pacific Ocean. Our course was further south, departing Buenos Aries and arriving 35 days later in Wellington, New Zealand (we never came close to the Marquesas). I was a journalist on board a racing yacht in the British Telecom Global Challenge of 2000. There were 18 of us on board, and we raced the boat day and night for over a month. No, we never stopped in Avalon to make calls back home to the family; we were racing. We won that leg in a very exciting finish that came down to less than an hour between us and the second-place boat.

Since I am not a life-long sailor (I had to train for this race), many of those lines made sense a bit more after the Challenge. I not only understood what “sailing a reach” was, we had done it. We did a few “downhill runs.” Sometimes, when you were on a “midnight watch,” you’d find yourself contemplating life, out in the middle of the darkness with thousands of miles of ocean all around you, where at one point, you are closer to space than you are to any continental land. Does such an odyssey provide some answers? It did to Stephen Stills. “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time/You understand now why you came this way/'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from is so small/But it's as big as the promise—the promise of a comin' day.”

By the way, if you are wondering why “Wooden Ships,” another song by Crosby, Stills and Nash, doesn’t make me reminisce about sailing, it is because is not about sailing or boating at all. It is about a nuclear holocaust. And the survivors happen to have fled on “wooden ships.” Not a happy song in the least.


See the video on Youtube.

Colin Hay “Beautiful World”

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

Many people speak about the restorative powers of the ocean. Swimming in a vast body of water connects us all in some primordial way. The feeling is at times spiritual. I recall Jill Nelson’s recent book, in which she talks about that first plunge of the season into the icy waters off Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard with her fellow Polar Bears:

Who, once fear is overcome, is not seduced by buoyancy, the weightlessness of floating, the gravity-defying, almost out-of-body experience of being in water? I have swum here for almost fifty summers and yet each time is like the first time: the shock of the cold water, the forced immersion, the seduction and surety of buoyancy, however heavy my body, mind, or spirit might feel on dry land. I cannot recall a time when the water did not make me smile, feel better.

The song that makes me think of this phenomenon is a recent one, by a guy named Colin Hay. Perhaps you remember him as lead singer of the Australian ‘80s group Men At Work, with hits such as “Who Can It Be Now,” and “Overkill.” He’s apparently carved out a little niche for himself, playing all acoustic songs that have the same melodic pop sound that Men At Work offered, but with a slightly more mature tone.

I stumbled upon him accidentally. I am a big fan of actor extraordinaire Zach Braff. In his underappreciated and now defunct sitcom Scrubs and his acclaimed movie Garden State, they featured Hay’s “Waiting for My Real Life to Begin” and “I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You” respectively. (Hay even had a cameo on one Scrubs episode where he is a cadaver come to life singing an acoustic version of “Overkill.”)

His album, Going Somewhere, leads off with a song “Beautiful World,” which opens like this:

My, my, my, it’s a beautiful world
I like swimming in the sea
I like to go out beyond the white breakers
Where a man can still be free, or a woman if you are one
I like swimming in the sea

Later in the song he sings “All around is anger/Automatic guns/There’s death in large numbers/No respect for women or our little ones.” Some of us perceive the water to protect us from the realities of this often cruel world. Who hasn’t dunked under to hear nothing at all, alone under the surface, letting our troubles wash away?

Every time I hear that distinct voice sing the lyrics of that song, I think of people bobbing in the surf, enjoying the salt water, where they can still be free.


See the video on Youtube.

The Samples "Feel Us Shaking"

This week's posts are written by Scott Lajoie, editor of Cape Cod Magazine. In creating a publication that reflects the look and feel of the region, Scott is particularly attuned to the stories, sights and general nostalgia of summer. So I asked him to write about some of the songs that have touched him personally over the years, particularly the ones that connect to iconic memories or feelings of Cape Cod.

I was in college in the early nineties. While so-called grunge and a particular type of alternative rock were hitting their nadir, my friends and I were also listening to group from Colorado that mixed my love of the Police (reggae meets punk meets heavenly melodies) with jam-band sensibilities. The Samples were all over the university scene in upstate New York at that time, and we all thought they were extremely talented-—particularly lead singer/guitarist Sean Kelly and percussionist Jeep MacNichol.

My favorite was called “Feel Us Shaking.” There were a few versions kicking around. The studio version was on their first album, but I was particularly fond of the remix on what was probably their bestselling album, “No Room.” It included some really cheesy seagull sounds to open up the recording. But to a guy who grew up vacationing on Cape Cod, I kinda liked it.

For a band that took pride in thoughtful reflection and environmental concern, the lyrics to “Feel Us Shaking” were pretty basic. “Gentle thoughts meander through the sand/As a ship made currents reach the land/An omniscient sun paving through the sky/When it’s done all the sea birds fly.” They even had a line about “out where the dolphins play.” (At least they didn’t make The Samples cry, right?!).

In a era when your other favorite bands were singing “Hello, hello, hello, how low” sung over oppressively depressive minor power chords, you embraced the casual sound of Kelly’s acoustic guitar and Al Laughlin’s bouncy islands-inspired keyboard riffs. The totality of lyrics were irrelevant. You could just imagine yourself sitting on the beach, around a campfire, under the stars, your thoughts “meandering through the sand.”

I recently looked up the video to this song. They played a lot of home videos during their concerts and sure enough, this video was a montage of beach scenes, shore birds, and breaching whales. Because they were from Colorado, I had assumed it was from the West Coast somewhere. About three-quarters through the video, I recognized a familiar lighthouse: Brant Point, which is located on the Cape’s “other” island, Nantucket. The band’s tune in a way cut closer to home than I had ever imagined.


See the video on Youtube.

Deadeye Dick "New Age Girl"

Here's another Weekend Post:

After yesterday's silly 90s Pop-fun, I thought I'd double down this weekend. This song gained a humongous audience for a indie band, when The Farrelly Brothers included it on the soundtrack to "Dumb And Dumber." Not as funny as "Leave The Biker," but still pretty funny.


See the video on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Fountains Of Wayne "Leave The Biker"

Here's another Weekend Post:

Having recently professed my love for Fountains Of Wayne, I thought I'd post the song I most enjoy playing. I'm not saying this is the best song they've written. But I've been listening to it for over a decade, and I still laugh out loud when I hear it. And I always stick around for The Beatles reference in the last 10 seconds.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

The Nightwatchman "Flesh Shapes The Day"

Is there a lonelier man, than the man with a pregnant wife?

When you get to the point in your life where you have little kids you notice that there is certainly a gulf between your friends who have kids, and your friends who don't.

I mean, you can still all get along, but when you have kids, all decisions and all conversation seems to be dictated by the kids. And on the other side of the chasm are the friends without kids, who, try as the might (or who might not try at all) can't really understand why it's so fucking hard to make simple dinner plans.

But in the unfortunate purgatory, is the couple having their first child.

The friends who have never been pregnant, have no concept of how your 24-hours-a-day are ruled by a kid who hasn't even shown up yet.

And your friends who do have kids mostly just say, "You think you're tired now," with a shocking lack of sympathy. It seems to be an evolutionary truth that people who have gone through pregnancy, tend to forget or minimize the process, so as to make future pregnancies not wholly unattractive.

Meanwhile, it's you and your wife.

Not long ago, you were a responsible adult. You love your wife, but she's pretty self-sufficient.

But then she's pregnant, and in short order, you have suddenly become the third most important person in your own life.

And as far as other people are concerned, well, when you walk into the room with a pregnant woman, you might as well be invisible. And no, not a soul on the planet has a mustard seed of sympathy for anything that you might be going through, when there is a woman next to you who is in the midst of performing nature's greatest miracle.

So there we were, face to face, Scott and me.

I don't think we ever really talked about any of the above, but we implicitly knew the other's plight.

We, and our wives, met during a class for expecting parents at the local hospital. Our wives were due within a week of each other, and, I recall, were thrilled to have one another to talk to---someone who understood exactly what the other's body and mind were going through at that stage.

Scott and I, after some small talk about parenting things (co-sleeping, night feeding, nesting weirdness) moved on to normal topics. And believe me, you friends out there who have never gone through pregnancy (male and female), after 8 months of pregnancy, you are desperate to talk about something that is not related to babydom, that reminds you of that life you so recently had.

Scott is the editor of Cape Cod Magazine, but was looking to do some freelance work in music. He was getting ready to pitch a story to No Depression about Tom Morello and his upcoming solo project.

Well, I had recently interviewed Morello for mvyradio and knew a lot about No Depression. When I got home, I made sure to dig out a copy of an anthology of their best feature interviews, to give to Scott for some guidance.

Over the last 4 years, Scott and I have each had a daughter, and each had a son, all of whom play together regularly. Our wives, much on the same track in terms of parenting, have each other as a parallel-Mom to connect with. And when they need to escape the role of Mom, they have each other to go get a drink with.

And Scott and I have each other, when we need to connect with someone who knows what it feels like to be the fourth most important person in his own life.



Or to talk about music. I'm in vacation next week, and Scott is going to Guest Blog for me. Being the editor of Cape Cod Magazine, he is always connecting what he sees and hears, to the Cape and Islands. Starting Monday, he'll be writing about songs that make him think of our special spot on the map. They may be songs written about us, or they may just be tunes that connect with the feeling of this special place.

Hear my full interview with Tom Morello, and see a portion of it on Youtube.



Hear the song on Youtube.

Fountains Of Wayne "Someone's Gonna Break Your Heart"

One of the hardest concepts for people who haven't ever really spent time thinking about what it must be like to be a DJ, is the concept of how and why we play what we play.

People just kind of assume that we pick our favorite songs and just play them.

That sounds good, but it's not right at all.

Funny enough, you wouldn't ascribe this attribute to any other business.

The movie theater owner doesn't show movies based on what HE would like to watch.

The chef doesn't cook whatever SHE feels like eating that night.

The shoe store owner doesn't only carry shoes that she herself would wear.

Now, the DJs try to play songs they think are good, just like the movie theater owner tries to pick movies people will come to see, the chef makes dishes people want to eat and the shoe store owner carries shoes that people might want to put on their feet. But they are not doing it for their own personal satisfaction.

Radio is a customer service business. We're trying to serve something that lots of folks might enjoy. We, like the restaurant, try to have a consistent menu, so when people come to our place, we're serving something that they expect, that is familiar and is pleasurable.

All this to say that just because I like something, doesn't mean it's going to get regular airplay on mvyradio.

I LOVE Fountains Of Wayne. But try as I might to convince myself otherwise, they just don't seem to sound right on mvyradio. Like a number of great Power Pop acts (Matthew Sweet and Squeeze come to mind), they're a little to hooky and clean, for mvy's otherwise organic, rootsy nature.

If I were playing only songs I liked, yeah, I'd probably play a lot of what I usually play on mvyradio, but I'd also play a fair amount of Ramones and The Clash.

And a whole lot of Fountains Of Wayne.


Hear the song on Youtube.

John Hiatt "Drive South"

I wrote a long time back that I would be doing occasional "Seminal Moments" entries, about the handful of songs that aren't just memories, but marked major changes in my life.

I haven't done one in a while.

Admittedly, it's because the prospect of trying to distill these watershed events, into a blog entry, is pretty damn intimidating.

But I've been staring at the list for months now. Time to write these.

I had just turned 21. Had a new girlfriend I was deeply in love with. We went record shopping.

One of the great things about her, was that while we shared a lot of musical favorites, she was introducing me to all kinds of artists that I knew a little about, but hadn't delved into yet.

In a record store in downtown Amherst, I bought my first John Hiatt record, "Slow Turning" on her recommendation.

I'd read a lot about Hiatt in Rolling Stone, but he wasn't the kind of guy who got a lot of radio airplay in 1990, so I didn't really know the music.

We listened to that record a lot during our senior year of UMass, with the specter of "The Real World" looming, getting ever closer.

What were we going to do when we graduated? And what would become of us?

Hiatt knew.

A few weeks after graduation, I had my Toyota Tercel idling in my parents' driveway packed to the gills with everything I owned (which really wasn't that much).

Her sister lived in South Florida, so that's where she was going. She had asked me if I'd go with her. It seemed like as good a place as any to start Real Life. And, at the time, I couldn't imagine Real Life without her.

I remember watching my parents waving goodbye from the front porch, doing their best imitation of stoic souls, knowing they would go in the house and cry for an hour.

Part of me wanted to cry too. But it was overwhelmed by feelings of elation, freedom, promise and young love.

I put Hiatt on the car stereo, and sang along with Hiatt as I headed onto Route 95 for the next several hundred miles:

"C'mon Baby, Drive South, with the one you love."


Hear the song on Youtube.

My Morning Jacket "Wonderful (The Way I Feel)"

What do you do when a band you like, a band you've supported in the past, makes a record/puts out a single, that just doesn't fit the sound of the station?

Well, you have two choices. You can just ignore the record, and hope their next record returns to the sound you previously embraced.

Or you can dig deeper on the album, go past the single, and find something that is more sonically appropriate.

My Morning Jacket has made a really cool, diverse, expectation-challenging record, but the first single just isn't something that would sound right on mvyradio.

There IS a great track on the album, that would fit the station just fine, in a neo-Neil Young kind of way. But should we play it?

A single serves as an advertisement for the album. So usually, a single is selected as a song that is a good representation of what the record sounds like.

And I can tell you from experience, if we play a single that doesn't sound like the rest of the album (or play a great single, from an otherwise shitty album), I'll get phone calls and emails.

"I bought that record because you were playing that great song. But the rest of the album doesn't sound like that/is lousy."

I feel bad if we led folks to spend their 14 bucks, on something that is a total disappointment.

"Wonderful" is not what the My Morning Jacket album sounds like.

Should we play it?

(And if the answer is Yes, do you promise not to send me pissy emails if you don't like the record?)


See the video on Youtube.

Cracker "Teen Angst"

It's kind of weird to be getting to a place in my life where my relationship is changing, with songs I already know.

I mean, as I age, my relationship with new music has certainly changed.

Meaning, at 42, I am less likely to seek out punk rock and hard-edged and loud music, compared to my 25-year-old self.

That's only natural.

It's not that I don't like it. I'm just less likely to keep current, or to be having an after-midnight party that requires Rage Against The Machine to be played at full volume.

This comes as no surprise to me. I kinda expected such a thing to happen.

But what I haven't expected, is to find myself disconnected from music I once could connect with.

Case-in-point is this Cracker song.

I still love the energy and David Lowery's delivery.

But at 25, I had an appetite for irony.

Here at 42, though, I just don't have that ironic distance from life.

I don't know if it's marriage, or kids, or just getting older or more mature, but I find myself less distant from life, for better and for worse.

I hadn't really thought about my relationship with this song, like a relationship with a person, but I guess it is. Some friends go with you through the transition, and some, while you're happy to hear from them from time to time, don't go with you on your journey.


See the video on Youtube.

The Ramones "Spiderman"

Here's another Weekend Post:

After pointing out the less-than-stellar-but-not-offensive Superhero song yesterday, I was compelled to post a couple of Super-Awesome Superhero songs, including The Ramones' version of the TV Cartoon "Spiderman" theme (lyrics by Stan Lee!!!), and, of course, its modern successor, Homer Simpson's (and Alf Clauson's) "Spiderpig."


See The Ramones video on Youtube.


Hear Homer sing the Spiderpig song on Youtube.


Hear the orchestral version on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

U2 "Hold Me Thrill Me Kiss Me Kill Me"

Here's another Weekend Post:

With The Edge and Bono composing the music for the Broadway musical, "Spiderman Turn Off The Dark," I had kind of forgotten that U2 had previously ventured into the world of Superhero Theme Songs, with this largely forgotten ditty from their oeuvre.

It's not horrible. Maybe just a little silly.


See the U2 video on Youtube.

Weekend posts are a chance to revisit songs that have happy memories, not of anything in particular, other than just hearing the tunes.

Many of these songs were tracks that I played during my 90s stint as an Alternative/Modern Rock radio show. They're tunes that I hardly hear these days, but are wonderful to revisit.

Click on the "Weekend Posts" label below, to see other posts like this.

Gene Wilder "Pure Imagination"

Before Thursday, I knew nothing about the artist Dale Chihuly.

Short version: He is a famed glass blower, who's works are of stunning beauty and complexity.

I took the day off yesterday to go into the MFA with my wife and kids, to catch the exhibit before it ends next week.

We were blown away.

My wife and I actually had the same exact reaction---to sing "Pure Imagination."

The installations were so incredible, so fantastical and so beautiful, it really felt like that scene in "Willy Wonka" when the kids are led into the Chocolate Room.

Go if you can. The pictures and video below only scratch the surface of the beauty of this exhibit.

See Gene Wilder sing the original.

Check out the MFA's site.

Katie Herzig "Free My Mind"

We loved Katie Herzig's last record, and we were happy to play it.

But I know, from her manager, that promoting the record was made tough by a crowded field.

Katie is a talented singer and songwriter, with smart, observant lyrics and enough pop acumen to cross from our little neo-folkie world to gain more mainstream attention.

And while that is a generally positive description, it also happens to be an apt description for a crowded current crop of talented smart female singer songwriters with potential crossover appeal.

I don't think Katie's last record sounded just like Ingrid Michaelson or Cobie Calliat or Sarah Bareilles or Brandi Carlile or Regina Spektor or Yael Naim or A Fine Frenzy or Brooke White or . . . well, you get the picture. It's a crowded field.

What do you do to distinguish yourself?

Well, you make a record that goes beyond that. Pushes further. Proves that you're not just a songwriter, you're an artist.

"Free My Mind" from Katie's forthcoming record, seems to go further and draws a definitive line between a standard-issue singer-songwriter, and where she is.

More importantly, it suggests that she will grow. And that makes the journey worth taking.


Hear the song on Youtube.

M Ward "Never Had Nobody Like You"

We think a lot about musicians and their world surrounding shows. But what about when the shows are over?

I can imagine that life on the road puts you in some weird situations.

I know it did for M Ward. And that the weirdoes were we . . .

Newport Folk was over. Darkness had come to Fort Adams.

I was standing in the Quad, the grassy area within the walls of Fort Adams, where the mvyradio broadcast center was. Most of the mvy staff was long gone. The Quad stage was empty, dark. The hospitality tent was empty, dark. There were a few random crew people walking too and fro, but mostly everyone was gone.

Barbara and Jess had just said goodbye. Jess, still adrenalized from the day's excitement, was headed to The Newport Blues Cafe, where Ryan Montbleau was playing, and where Deer Tick and Friends would be playing later. Barbara, who'd given her all to her many, many interviews, was headed back to our owner's house, for some food and a glass of something to relax with.

Joe, mvyradio's owner, and I were the only ones left. We'd pulled the last of our wires and cables and connections and such from our tent, and were loading them into his Tahoe.

"I'm going to run out front to say goodbye to the NPR folks, and then we're out of here." I was happy for that. In my younger days, I would have been off with Jess. But in my more prudent 40s, I was ready to head to the house and raise a quiet toast with Barbara.

So there I stood in the dark, drinking a beer, when someone who'd been crossing the Quad, changed his course and approached me.

"Are you guys, by chance, heading toward downtown, and if so, can I catch a ride?"

"Yeah! We're leaving in a minute. Hop in!"

"Do you know where the, um, Blues Cafe is? I'm supposed to play with some friends there."

"Really? That's where I'M headed!" I said, much to my own surprise.

"I'm Matt."

"Yeah, I know," I smiled. "Hey Joe," who'd just returned, "This is M Ward. Can you drop us in town?"

So here's M Ward, somehow left behind on the grounds of a venue he just played, in a town he's not familiar with, in the dark, and he's left to figure out how to rejoin his friends, so he hops in a car with 2 strangers.

I'm sure he's been in this situation before. In fact, I bet he finds himself in this kind of situation more often than you or I. He seemed to know how to handle it.

He made small talk. Asked us our names and what we did. Joe gave him a detailed explanation of how we had fitted the whole of Fort Adams for wireless broadcasting, and Matt dropped in several, appropriately timed, "Oh wow"s.

He asked where I grew up, and when I said the North Shore of Massachusetts, he guessed Newburyport. Turns out he lived for a while in Newmarket, NH. We had a conversation about The Stone Church there, leading the conversation to where I really wanted it to go---his music.

I started grilling him about his upcoming projects, and he referred to "this other group I'm in" (yeah, that would be She & Him) and how they just finished a Christmas album. And he's working on a new solo record.

While all this is going on, I'm texting Jess, ("We're driving M Ward to town!"; "Bring him to me!" she replied) and he's texting his manager.

"My friends are at a restaurant near the club. Do you think you could get me near there? I don't mind to walk."

While all this conversation and texting is going on, Joe, a longtime Newport resident, is channeling his inner cab driver, trying to avoid the traffic clogging the post-Festival streets.

Matt has his GPS working on his phone, saying, "I think you can go down this street . . ."

"We don't want to go down that street. That's going to be a nightmare," instead banging a hard left and racing down a narrow Newport alley.

It was a little bit of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride for a few minutes, but after another alley (so thin that we were up on the curb for a moment), and a cut through a parking lot, we suddenly popped out right next to the restaurant.

I told Matt that I looked forward to seeing him play later and he thanked us kindly for the ride.

Joe then dropped me off at Newport Blues where I regaled Jess and Julie and Ryan and Jason Spooner (where did he come from?!) and anyone else I knew, with my tale of riding with M Ward.

Meanwhile, M Ward was somewhere with his manager in a Newport restaurant, no doubt not talking about his ride, as it was just another ride in another town after another show as part of a life on the road.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Emmylou Harris & The Civil Wars "Evangeline"

I caught the end of The Civil Wars set, when they took a moment to show some very sincere appreciation for the Newport Folk audience.

When you're a band like The Civil Wars, and your performance is all about quiet dynamics and chemistry, well, an outdoor music festival is not always conducive. Hootin' and hollerin' and folks not paying attention can often be the scene.

But folks were there to see The Civil Wars. To listen to The Civil Wars.

I'm sure that after years of playing in small venues, bars, coffee houses, etc, for less than attentive audiences, flashed before them, as they seemed to realize that they had reached a place where, when they sang, the audience paid attention.

But the real moment of joy came an hour later, as Emmylou Harris invited them to the Main Stage, to join her for "Evangeline."

I was on the side of the stage, and I could see Joy Williams sing a line, and then turn toward Emmylou Harris to watch her sing, with this look that was purely ecstatic, a look that said, "I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I'm so lucky."

Seeing an artist appreciate their audience, appreciate that they are appreciated, and seeing them radiate it back, well that just makes me appreciate The Civil Wars even more.

You can hear The Civil Wars' set and Emmylou Harris' set in the mvyradio archives.

Hey, it's Garth Hudson's birthday, so I thought I'd post The Last Waltz version of "Evangeline." Check him out on accordion!

See the video on Youtube.

Carolina Chocolate Drops "Diddle Box"

Every summer, we cover The Newport Folk Festival live on mvyradio, as we did this past weekend. We take the Main Stage performances and air them in real time on the radio.

The question, as programmers, that we always have to ask, is "What does this sound like to the average listener?"

I mean, if you knew that mvyradio was going to be broadcasting Emmylou Harris at 6pm, and you really wanted to hear that, you'd tune in, and get what you were expecting.

But what about the people who listen to the station, who are not involved with/aware of/immersed in Newport Folk? What about the listeners who just like mvyradio and what we do. What is there experience when the tune into the station and get 45 minutes of a live performance?

Well, with familiar, straight-forward-style consensus-artists, like Amos Lee or Elvis Costello, I'm sure it only partially registers.

This issue that we worry about, are the more challenging (in relation to our usual programming) acts.

For instance, I had a few friends who had tuned in to the Gypsy Punk of Gogol Bordello, and said to me, "What was that!?"

This morning, I had to roll out of bed in Newport, and get in the car with DJ Jess Phaneuf and her boyfriend Ryan, and rush back to the ferry, so I could get to work in time to do my airshift today. Along with bringing back some of the equipment, we were transporting a stack of CDs---board mixes of the Main Stage performances.

Ryan popped in The Carolina Chocolate Drops, a band I do personally love.

But their old-time string band style, is not exactly in-the-pocket for mvyradio.

After a couple of songs, I said, "What do you think people were saying yesterday if they had just tuned into mvyradio, to get the usual mvy vibe while driving around the Island, or sitting on the beach?"

I mean, really, if you expected to tune into mvyradio because you know you're going to hear Van Morrison and Bonnie Raitt and Talking Heads and Ray Lamontagne, and instead you heard banjos and foot-stomping and twang, well . . .

"Because I'm betting those listeners were saying, 'What the fuck is this?'"

But then they introduced the 3rd song, called "Diddle Box."

We didn't really talk as we were listening, we all just kind of shook our heads. The vocal performance, the building energy, the free-style spirit, the incredible bridging of old time and scat and (did I detect some kind of Gaelic connection?) and the fully modern, totally won me over.

"What do you think those listeners are saying now?" said Ryan, knowing that the Chocolate Drops had effectively silenced any non-believers.

Here the whole set from Newport at mvyradio.com. "Diddle Box" comes in about 8 minutes into the show.

Not from Newport, but here's a video: