Bob Mould "See A Little Light"

Oddly enough, when I hear "See A Little Light" it takes me back to being in the dark. Literally.

Ah, to be young and single. There are so many aspects to the story that follows, that are so far removed from the life I have now . . .

Let's see, where to start.

I'm on a lawn chair, on the deck of a house that is not mine. It is after midnight. I am with a girl I like. It is completely dark.

Honestly, this scenario was not a one time thing. I often brought a girl to this very location.

I'm in my late 20s, living in southwest Virginia.

I live in a 100 year old rented farm house, known as 7 Maples, with two of my friends. The house is huge, the rent is cheap. We are all single and generally unencumbered (we own little and owe little). Beer and cigarettes and coffee and friends and dates come and go, frequently and at all hours.

I'm a DJ, working the evenings, which means I don't get home until after midnight, every night. So much of my social interaction occurs when most of the town has gone to sleep.

The farmhouse is on the road. A country road, but right on it. Walking out of the wood stove room/back door to the driveway in the back is a slight incline, which then become a steeper, brush covered incline. Cutting a path through the brush is a dirt road, winding its way up the hill. At the top of the hill, just before the treeline, is the studio.

The farmhouse is owned by a husband/wife artist team. They have just built this beautiful studio, for their expanding production. They bought the land to build the studio; 7 Maples came in the bargain, so they rent in cheaply. On the lower level, is her kiln and her rows of tiny, handmade jewelry. On the top level, are his looms for his giant, rich, wall hangings. And on their deck are a few lawn chairs.

It is not unusual for me to bring a girl up here. The landlords don't mind. Encourage it, in fact. Just pick up your empty beer cans. Otherwise, enjoy the view.

When I hear "See A Little Light," even today, this is where I am. On a warm summer might with a warm summer beer, hoping to impress a girl, and generally unencumbered by anything more taxing than that.

It seems kind of idyllic, and I could probably paper over the reality with nostalgia. But the truth is that what felt like freedom on a good day, felt like being set adrift, aimlessly, on another day. There could be drama and mood-swings and angst. Some of that generated internally, and some of that manifested in the people around me.

7 Maples, due to its fluid and welcoming nature, attracted its fair share of friends and hangers-on, drunks and lost boys/girls. People searching, or flailing, or failing. People who's only reaction to things that didn't make sense, was to curse the darkness and shout out into the night.

"Ahh, shit. I'd better go see what that is."

I reluctantly got up from my lawn chair, which had been pulled close to her lawn chair.

Remember in "Say Anything" when you first hear "In Your Eyes" and you just think it's the movie soundtrack, until they show Lloyd in the yard with his boom box?

At first I didn't notice the melody in the air for anything other than a soundtrack to whatever I'm sure I was going on about in an effort to impress this girl. But then I realized that Bob Mould was booming from my house, which was a good 300 yards away.

We ambled our way in the dark, down the hill and as we got closer to the house, I could see a little light, literally, from the wood stove room where the stereo lived and most of the beer was consumed. The stereo speakers were now in the window, and the stereo was cranked up to 11.

I walked inside, smoothly and succinctly, heading straight for the stereo to turn it down.

"It's a little loud," I said, with a cocked eyebrow.

There was no point in making a salient argument, or getting too angry. He was drunk.

He was a friend of one of the roommates. The kind of guest that doesn't leave, even after his friend has gone to bed (if the are still drinks to be had).

I'm not sure what he was trying to accomplish by putting the speakers in the window and blasting Bob Mould across the hillside. And I'm fairly certain that he couldn't tell you either.

It was just the kind of thing you did when you were in your 20s, a little lost, a little drunk, a little in the dark, searching for some kind of answers.


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear the song on Youtube.

John Mayer “Say”

Hitting Random on the iTunes playlist . . .

One of the bizarre things about being an artist, or a politician, or a figurehead of most any kind, is that inevitably, actions ascribed to you may have nothing to do with you at all.

The Under-Secretary of the Interior makes an inappropriate comment, and your Governorship gets blasted by the press. A teacher conducts themselves inappropriately, and the Superintendent finds him/herself on the hot seat.

A record label makes a weird, lousy or greedy decision, and the artist gets the blame.

Every time I hear “Say” I blame John Mayer.

Mayer put out the album “Continuum” in fall of 2006, and had much success with it.

In 2007, he was invited to contribute a song to the movie “The Bucket List,” and he offered the very enjoyable track “Say.”

There was to be no commercial soundtrack to “The Bucket List” (though it did put out a Movie Score CD). And Mayer was a long way off from readying his next studio effort. So what to do with this single?

How about re-issue “Continuum,” now with “Say” tacked on the end?

So if you were a Mayer fan, even if you already bought “Continuum,” to get a CD version of “Say” you had to buy “Continuum” again.

It’s not the first time this sort of thing has ever been done by an artist or a label. But this instance stands out to me because it seemed to unnecessary in an age where it’s pretty easy to sell singles online.

I’m sure that decision was made by someone at Sony Records. And there might even be a good, thoughtful reason behind the choice.

But because that person is faceless, and the decision made out of the sight of the consumer, I end up putting the blame on Superintendent John Mayer.

Buy it as an MP3 single!

Smithereens "A Girl Like You"

The line on this song is that it was written specifically for "Say Anything," but the producer felt the lyrics gave away too much of the plot, so it was scrapped from the soundtrack. Probably a bummer for the band at the time, but since it turned out to be their biggest commercial hit, they were most likely psyched that it ended up on their own album.

I had a bass guitar for a few minutes, back in college, when I was surrounded by people who really knew how to play. I usually got tapped to sing, since, by default, I had the best voice. But I wanted to be able to thump on something, so I had a bass. And I'm pretty sure that "A Girl Like You" is the only song I ever learned to play. Not that I didn't try. Oh, the studying hours I lost, trying to figure out "Daytripper." But of the songs in our dorm Oeuvre, this was the only tune I could, well, not master, but at least play competently.

Does that speak ill of this song?

Hear The Smithereens "A Girl Like You"