Matthew Sweet "Scooby Doo Where Are You?"

Here's another Weekend Post: 

Well, since I pulled out Scooby Snacks yesterday, it only makes sense to bring you the song Matthew Sweet was born to cover . . .

And hey, do you recognize the actress on the couch?


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.

Matthew Sweet "Girlfriend"

I was never a huge autograph hound, but I really wanted to meet Matthew Sweet.

We'd traveled from Virginia down to Winston-Salem's "Ziggy's," where more than a few of our favorite acts would come through.

It had been a hell of a night for Power Pop, as the opening band, Boston's The Gigolo Aunts killed it, and even tossed the crowd a jangle-pop nugget---a cover of "Feel" by Big Star.

And Matthew Sweet was in fine form, referencing the fact that he had recorded the "Girlfriend" album right in the general neighborhood with altern-Pop Producer/Guru/Guitar-star Mitch Easter.

Gilding the lily was the fact that Sweet's band was made up of two key members of another personal favorite at the time, Velvet Crush.

Now at that time, and hell, if you still ask me today, "PJ, What's Your Favorite Song?" I'll probably stammer for a second, to see which answer pops out of my mouth that day.

Some days, it's "Train In Vain" by The Clash.

And other days, it's "Girlfriend" by Matthew Sweet.

I can't quite remember how I scored it, but somehow, via a record company person, I owned a vinyl 45 of "Girlfiend."  I still have it.

Not only is it a happening shade of Red vinyl, but it contains some interesting b-side stuff, including the demo, which was called "Good Friend."  It even came with liner notes.  What 45 has liner notes?  But it was interesting to know that Sweet only changed the name (from "Good Friend" to "Girlfriend") because that's what his friends thought the song was called.  But he couldn't remember why the swinging piano part found in the demo, had not been a part of the final recording.

So, armed with my precious 45, I patiently waited in line after the show, to climb on Sweet's tour bus, to get a few seconds to say, "Thanks" and have him Sharpie-up my vinyl.

He was gracious and efficient, but you could detect that he'd rather be on to the next part of his night.  Goofing around behind him in the belly of the bus, was the hot, sweaty band, drinking and laughing.

But he did get a sweet and bemused smile on his face, when I pulled out my copy of "Teenage Symphonies To God," a Velvet Crush CD.

I didn't even have to ask, Sweet just turned around and called out, "Paul!  Hey, a kiss on the cheek for you . . ."

Paul  (the singer from Velvet Crush who provided much the additional vocal beauty in Sweet's set) looked a little sheepish, but also pleased, as he signed my CD, and the other band members called out to him, "A kiss on the cheek!  A kiss on the cheek . . ."

It's funny, I'd never heard the expression "kiss on the cheek" in that kind of context before.  But I knew what it meant, right away.  And funny, I've never heard that expression again, in that kind of context.  I don't know if it was made up on the spot, or if "kiss on the cheek" really is a thing, when a musician gets some secondary attention.



Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear "Good Friend" on Youtube.


Hear Velvet Crush on Youtube.  Featuring Mitch Easter!

Matthew Sweet "Do Ya"

Here's another Weekend Post:

Continuing yesterday's 90s Pop Nostalgia . . . There was this weird outburst in the 90s, when Saturday Night Live and David Letterman and some other late night shows decided to raid their archives and put out CDs.  For whatever reason, most did not go beyond a Volume 1.

This track is particularly awesome, since it wasn't part of a broadcast episode of Conan O'Brien.  The track was recorded during the afternoon's soundcheck, and was included on the Late Night CD.

Matthew Sweet doing The Move (ELO) . . . awesome.  Knowing this is live (sans any studio trickery) really puts the point on what a great and unique voice he has.


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.
 

Matthew Sweet "I've Been Waiting"

There's something inherently awkward about doing something for someone who is good at that thing you are doing.

(Go ahead, say it: "huh?")

It's kind of weird cooking dinner for your friend who is an awesome chef.

It's really hard to buy an article of clothing for your friend who is really fashionable.

Or buying flowers for your florist friend.

And it's also kind of awkward, if you are on the other side in this equation---you are the chef, the fashionista, the florist, etc.

Even if you are doing your best to be grateful, if it's something you are passionate about in your own life, it's hard not to see the flaws, the shortcomings, the plain inaccuracies, and have an awkwardness permeate your interaction.

Like when you're a DJ, and a girl gives you a song.

That's what I think about when I hear this Matthew Sweet tune.

I LOVED the "Girlfriend" album.  Was very passionate about it.  Invested in the songs.

So when I girl I had been seeing for a few weeks told me that "I've Been Waiting" expressed how she felt about me, it was . . . awkward.

It was awkward because I didn't feel the same way she did.

That is, I realized that she liked me more than I liked her.

But also, I think I understood the song in a way that was different from her.  I cared about it deeply.  And I wouldn't have said, "this song expresses how I feel about you" unless I felt equally as deeply, about the person I was sharing the song with.

For her, the chorus of "I've Been Waiting" simply expressed an excitement about really liking someone.  I don't know if she dug any deeper than that.

You can check out the neat video below, where Matthew Sweet talks about the genesis of the song, but even years before I saw this, or knew the actual story, I understood that this song was about a depth of feeling that I didn't share with the person sharing the song with me.

Awkward.


Hear the song on Youtube.


Matthew Sweet discusses and performs "I've Been Waiting"

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.

Super Deluxe "She Came On"

Movies like to depict the “Aha!” moment.

The character, who has been one way for the entire film, has a single conversation/realization/life-changing event, and suddenly they realize that they should spend more time with their kids or they really love their bookish best friend not the hot model they’ve been chasing. Or whatever.

But real life isn’t like that. Realizations tend to come more gradually, as does change.

You don’t wake up one day and decided, Hey, I should grow up a little!

No, it’s more of a process that maybe starts internally as you question how and why you do certain things, and continues with you evolving as a person.

I remember in the late 90s when this song by Super Deluxe came out. I instantly gravitated toward it, because I was in a huge Power Pop phase, listening incessantly to Matthew Sweet and Big Star and The Posies. “She Came On” is so damn hooky!

Then I was struck by a particular line:

“I found myself wandering aimlessly, calling it Freedom.”

I knew what it meant. It really hit home. It's where I was.

I was still living like a college student, happily untethered from responsibilities of relationships or sobriety or major possessions. Anything that weighed me down, or smacked of adulthood, I roundly rejected.

But there was already a part of me (in my thoughts, but not yet my actions), wondering: To what end?

I’d see these guys out at the bars, 10 years, 20 years older than me, still living like they were in college. Did I want to be one of those guys?

I didn’t yet have the answer of what I DID want to be (I still kinda don’t), but I’d seen “Dazed And Confused.” I didn’t want to be Matthew McConaughey's character, aging but not changing.

I was years away from wanting to, or being ready to be married, or own a home, or consider that staying home on Friday night wasn't the worst fate in the world.

But a simple pop song was there to let me know that I was evolving.

Super Deluxe - Music - More Music Videos

See the video on Totally Fuzzy.

Susanna Hoffs “The Look Of Love"

So I had Susanna Hoffs on the phone for a Person Of The Week interview, specifically to talk about her involvement in the “Keep The Light Alive” charity CD for Lou Gerhig’s Disease, and when we finished talking about that project, well, I wanted to take advantage of having her on the phone, so I peppered her with a few more questions.

We talked about her collaborations with Matthew Sweet, the new Bangles record she and her bandmates are working on, and the possibility of a Vineyard visit someday.

Listen to that bonus part of the interview.

I loved her description of why covers are fun to do.

While I was on the carpet in the Living Room listening to records, she was in her room somewhere, listening to records with a guitar in her hands, trying to figure out something like, “Monday Monday” or “Sugar Magnolia.”

And, man, between the two collaborative covers records she’s done with Matthew Sweet, and the Bangles and solo records she’s done, there are some amazing covers, that do just what a good interpretation should---it should recall the original, but really have some kind of stamp of the interpreter.

So, for your entertainment, on the last day of a week’s worth of Susanna Hoffs posts, a bevy of her cover songs.

Big Star "In The Streets"

Is this the "worst song ever"?!

When I pick up the request line at mvyradio, it's often a person with an opinion on the other end of the line. They want to let us know that they like, or they don't like something or other. But generally, the conversations are brief and to the point, especially if the caller has some negative feedback.

Last week, I was doing a Live Acoustic And Cover Tunes set of songs by the influential, but relatively obscure band Big Star. Their records were commercial failures in the early seventies, but they found a following among artists growing up in the eighties, who embraced power pop. R.E.M., Matthew Sweet, The Gin Blossoms and The Lemonheads have all sited Big Star as an important influence.

Most people aren't familiar with the band, but may know this song, because it was re-recorded by Cheap Trick, for the theme song to "That 70s Show," (albeit with drug reference removed).

So I played this track, a live version recorded at a radio station appearance, and I got a call.

Not only did the caller say that he didn't like the song, he told me it was the most horrible thing he'd ever heard. He hated the singer. He hated the guitar part. He hated the drumming. He hated the lyrics. He hated the quality of the recording.

In short, his sensibilities were completely offended.

He ended his call, back on Earth, saying, "I love mvy. I love what you do. But I hated that."

Certainly, this is not the best song, or the best recording ever. But is it that horrible?

Hear Big Star "In The Streets"

See a reunited Big Star on Jay Leno, here