Neil Finn "Song Of The Lonely Mountain"

Neil Finn is a great songwriter and an enormous talent.

But here's a quote from Rolling Stone Magazine, about the song he wrote for the new "Hobbit" movie.

"I'd get a little melody and I'd think, ‘Would a dwarf sing that?'

Yeah, I think when that's the question you find yourself asking as a songwriter, nothing good can come of it.

I dunno, maybe you'll like this one . . .

Hear the song on Youtube.

Bonnie Raitt "Takin' My Time"

I had a fun time-machine-like experience while on vacation in August.

We were at my Mother-In-Law's getaway place in Maine.  It's not a cabin.  It's not roughing-it by any means.

But it IS out of cell phone range and internet range and cable and broadcast television range.  So you can be pretty disconnected.

There are a ton of books floating around, so in the quiet moments (when we send the kids outside, that is) there are plenty of things to idly flip though.

When my Mother-In-Law bought the place a couple of years ago, it came as-is.  So we inherited a huge collection of VHS movies and books and such.  Many of them had been there for decades.

And that was my experience when I picked up The Rolling Stone Illustrated History Of Rock & Roll.

It was---as advertised---a comprehensive history of Rock & Roll, published in 1980.  Each section was an essay on either a single important musician/band, a particular movement or a full genre.

Hilariously, it touts that this is the updated edition (the original came out in 1976), so it's more complete than ever.

So it's a view of Rock & Roll that predates Nirvana.  It predates the internet.  It predates Rap music.

Those are obvious.

It also describes a world that has never seen a CD.  A world where all four of The Beatles are still alive and could potentially reunite.  A world where MTV did not yet exist.

Most interestingly, it had really interesting summations of artists who---from today's perspective---were perhaps being analyzed too soon.

Talking Heads had put out a few promising albums, but the piece on them doesn't/couldn't predict their breakthough commercial success or their lasting influence.

Elvis Costello had put out his blistering triptych debut and follow-ups, but gave the reviewer no hint of the many genre exercises and tributaries that he would so ably traverse in the coming years.

My favorite review was on Bonnie Raitt.  In 1980, she was critically beloved, and was an impressive live act.  But she hadn't had a commercial breakthrough yet.  And the reviewer thought her own material was weak, and, more damningly, that her ability to select material was weak (like this track written by Little Feat's Bill Payne).  And thus she'd probably never realize her potential.

Which is hilarious to read here in the future, where Bonnie has won many Grammys, sold millions of records and is widely regarded as important and influential.


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.