Jesse Barnett of Right Arm Resource is our guest blogger this week. He spends his days on the phone with radio stations across the country, advocating for records he believes in. While PJ is on vacation, Jesse talks to you about 5 new songs he thinks radio, and you, will love.
Hello? Is anyone looking?
Well, this is strange. I feel like I’m sneaking into someone’s room and writing in their diary. Sure, a blog is not private like a diary, but you know what I mean.
Don’t you?
I’m honored that PJ asked me to guest-blog for a week while he and the family take a much-deserved vacation. He didn’t tell me where he was going, but I’m going to assume it has something to either do with a drink with an umbrella in it, or a seven foot tall cartoon character. Either way, my hope here is to keep from doing irreparable damage to his good name.
Part of PJ’s daily existence is taking (and dodging, when needed) an insanely large volume of calls from folks like me each week telling him about all the great songs piled up on his desk and just why, why oh why, each one deserves their place in rotation on WMVY’s airwaves.
Over the next week, I’ll highlight five of these songs, making my case to you, the reader. Perhaps together, we can convince PJ to find a home for them.
So here we go…
When I first heard Nicole Atkins in 2007, radio was awash in a sea of pretty female singer songwriters and their acoustic guitars. Then the album Neptune City hit my desk. A mix of swooning 60’s-girl-group melodies, vocals with attitude, indie cred album tracks and a band that could actually PLAY. Dang.
The first single, “Maybe Tonight,” was like Phil Spector meets the Go Go’s and the second, “The Way It Is” was throat-clearing sexy. When I got the chance to see her perform in a couple different settings at South By Southwest in the spring of 2008, she exuded an air of confidence and killed it every time she took the stage.
Like so many music industry stories go, after the promotional well for the album ran dry, she and the label parted ways. Over the next few years, she wrote the tracks for her new album Mondo Amore, playing anywhere possible to support the recording of it. Long story short, she’s got a new label, a new lease on life, and a killer album to back it all up. She also got a great opportunity to perfect the songs live as she spent last November opening up for The Black Keys.
The first single (ahem – this is where we all team up together to get PJ to play it) is called “Cry Cry Cry.” It comes out of the gate with a driving beat, her trademark soaring vocals and a chorus that is impossible to get out of your head after one listen. Radio has responded kindly, with major airplay nationwide. The album was just released, selling over 2000 copies in its first week, and she capped it off with a performance of the song on Conan. Watch it below. I dare you to not find yourself singing it out loud later in the supermarket.
Read a little more about Jesse in this previous post, and visit his site at Right Arm Resource.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Go-Gos "Vacation"
Here's another Weekend Post:
I'm not actually headed out on vacation until Tuesday, but since I save the weekend posts for simple nostalgia, here's some ex-punks-gone-pop gone on vacation.
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.
I'm not actually headed out on vacation until Tuesday, but since I save the weekend posts for simple nostalgia, here's some ex-punks-gone-pop gone on vacation.
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.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Raphael Saadiq "Stone Rollin'"
Jesse Barnett is going to be guest blogging here next week. And to get things off on the right foot, here's a free iTunes download that we received, via of Mr. Barnett.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Friday, February 25, 2011
Guster "Airport Song"
The scene: Backstage at the Life Is Good Festival 2010
I'm talking to Jesse, who's holding a big framed poster covered with the autographs of most everyone who has played at the two day event.
Jesse was one of the top fundraising VGP's (Very Good People) for Life Is Good's Kids Foundation, earning him all kinds of great perks. He and his wife and two kids met most every band, had special on-the-stage seating and backstage access throughout the weekend, thanks to his tireless, months long charitable efforts leading up to the festival.
Guster---who have just come off the main stage---will be his last "get" for the weekend. He has otherwise filled his commemorative poster will the scribbled sharpie signatures of folks he's just seen live.
If you've ever been to a Meet & Greet, there is usually this awkward moment, when the band files into the room (or in this case, tent), and the band and the fans look at each other, waiting for somebody to go first.
Jesse---he's not shy---jumps right in, offering the band compliments and thanks, and then he mentions, "I worked the Hybrid record for you guys."
I tell you this story to point out that, Yes, Jesse works in Record Promotions. But more importantly he's a music fan first.
There really aren't cultural tales of heroic record promoters. No, unfortunately, folks who make a living trying to get radio stations to play certain records are generally painted with the same dirty brush that people use to describe Used Car Salesmen.
And, outside of my subjective experience, I might see how you could be cynical, and equate those who make commerce out of art as being worthy of contempt.
But thankfully, my subjective experience has educated me otherwise.
On a daily basis, I interact with folks who devote their lives to getting records played on radio. And by and large, these people are music lovers first and foremost, who happened to work in a field they are passionate about.
Jesse Barnett, and a couple dozen other folks like him, call me every week to talk about records they're promoting and why they think mvyradio listeners might like them.
I know that not every radio station Music Director enjoys taking these calls, but I find them to be really rewarding. I spend a few hours each week, talking to people who are not just passionate about music, but are willing to be evangelical about it. Sure, sometimes it's rote. And yes, I only end up playing a fraction of the records I get talked to about. But to be a part of the conversation is pretty exciting for a music fan.
I'm on vacation next week, so I am asking you to take my music calls.
Jesse will be calling you, via this blog, to talk directly to you about five records he's working, that he thinks mvyradio should be playing. Read what he has to say, listen to the tracks, and leave some feedback. It'll be great to have you in on the conversation, too.
A bit about Jesse. His company is Right Arm Resource, based out of North Easton, Massachusetts. He graduated from Emerson, and worked for A&M Records and then Hybrid Records among other places, before starting his own independent company.
Jesse, like most of the Record folks who call me at mvy, is an independent promoter. Instead of working for a label (where label heads decided what artists they will work with, and the promotions department goes about promoting those artists whether they like them or not) an independent promoter is like a freelancer. Jesse will get hired by Sony or New West or Universal to work Raphael Saadiq or The Old 97s or Jack Johnson records. He has to scrap for each job he gets, but he only has to work records he really believes in.
Starting Monday, read about the songs Jesse is getting evangelical about. Think about how it might sound on mvyradio. And let us know what you think.
I'm talking to Jesse, who's holding a big framed poster covered with the autographs of most everyone who has played at the two day event.
Jesse was one of the top fundraising VGP's (Very Good People) for Life Is Good's Kids Foundation, earning him all kinds of great perks. He and his wife and two kids met most every band, had special on-the-stage seating and backstage access throughout the weekend, thanks to his tireless, months long charitable efforts leading up to the festival.
Guster---who have just come off the main stage---will be his last "get" for the weekend. He has otherwise filled his commemorative poster will the scribbled sharpie signatures of folks he's just seen live.
If you've ever been to a Meet & Greet, there is usually this awkward moment, when the band files into the room (or in this case, tent), and the band and the fans look at each other, waiting for somebody to go first.
Jesse---he's not shy---jumps right in, offering the band compliments and thanks, and then he mentions, "I worked the Hybrid record for you guys."
I tell you this story to point out that, Yes, Jesse works in Record Promotions. But more importantly he's a music fan first.
There really aren't cultural tales of heroic record promoters. No, unfortunately, folks who make a living trying to get radio stations to play certain records are generally painted with the same dirty brush that people use to describe Used Car Salesmen.
And, outside of my subjective experience, I might see how you could be cynical, and equate those who make commerce out of art as being worthy of contempt.
But thankfully, my subjective experience has educated me otherwise.
On a daily basis, I interact with folks who devote their lives to getting records played on radio. And by and large, these people are music lovers first and foremost, who happened to work in a field they are passionate about.
Jesse Barnett, and a couple dozen other folks like him, call me every week to talk about records they're promoting and why they think mvyradio listeners might like them.
I know that not every radio station Music Director enjoys taking these calls, but I find them to be really rewarding. I spend a few hours each week, talking to people who are not just passionate about music, but are willing to be evangelical about it. Sure, sometimes it's rote. And yes, I only end up playing a fraction of the records I get talked to about. But to be a part of the conversation is pretty exciting for a music fan.
I'm on vacation next week, so I am asking you to take my music calls.
Jesse will be calling you, via this blog, to talk directly to you about five records he's working, that he thinks mvyradio should be playing. Read what he has to say, listen to the tracks, and leave some feedback. It'll be great to have you in on the conversation, too.
A bit about Jesse. His company is Right Arm Resource, based out of North Easton, Massachusetts. He graduated from Emerson, and worked for A&M Records and then Hybrid Records among other places, before starting his own independent company.
Jesse, like most of the Record folks who call me at mvy, is an independent promoter. Instead of working for a label (where label heads decided what artists they will work with, and the promotions department goes about promoting those artists whether they like them or not) an independent promoter is like a freelancer. Jesse will get hired by Sony or New West or Universal to work Raphael Saadiq or The Old 97s or Jack Johnson records. He has to scrap for each job he gets, but he only has to work records he really believes in.
Starting Monday, read about the songs Jesse is getting evangelical about. Think about how it might sound on mvyradio. And let us know what you think.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Foreigner "Waiting For A Girl Like You"
There's a Steven Wright joke about driving cross country, with only 1 cassette in the car.
But this wasn't really a joke for the Finn Family. I only owned 2 cassettes, and both were in the car with us.
Now, the reason I only owned 2 cassettes, was that I had finally reach an age where my allowance was such that I could save up and buy my very own music purchases. So I was just at the beginning of my lifelong record collecting habit.
I was 12 years old, and I bought two very super cool hip cassettes: The J Geils Band "Freeze Frame" & Foreigner "4."
We weren't quite rich enough to afford a Walkman, but I did have my own tape recorder and some headphones, and knowing that we'd be spending close to 50 hours in the car together, I made sure to pack them.
It was 1981 and we were making our BIG first family trip, in the blue station wagon, to Disneyworld.
If you've ever driven the East Coast, you have probably spent a large portion of the trip spinning the dial, looking for some kind of consensus music that will satisfy the musical needs of the travelers.
(Yes, this story is so old, that I am mentioning things that barely exist anymore: station wagons, tape recorders and non-digital radio dials that actually need to be spun to be tuned)
By somewhere in Maryland, Dad was ready to try a change. He asked if what I had for my tape recorder.
I looked at the J. Geils tape. Would a song about a high school crush becoming a Playboy Centerfold pass parental muster? Uh, probably not. I passed Foreigner "4" forward.
The tracks were generically rocking enough that we were all tapping along as we made our way down 95. But there was actually some interest when "Waiting For A Girl Like You" came up. Even Mom could overtly like this one.
When the cassette finished, Dad popped it out, and to our surprise, "Waiting For A Girl Like You" was the first song that came up on the next local station we found.
And when that station faded and we picked up another, it was in short order that "Waiting For A Girl Like You" rang out again.
By this time, it was practically a game. We'd try to catch the song in each state we passed through. And we listened to the cassette a couple more times, too.
Between the trip down and the trip back, we heard the tune a couple dozen times. And even today, if by chance someone in the family hears that song, we immediately recall that trip to Florida.
I had this story on the brain, because my wife and I are taking the kids to Florida next week. And now, as a parent, I realized all the sacrifice and savings and planning that go into making a major family trip and I wonder and worry:
30 years later, will my kids mostly just remember a song they heard on the radio?
*fun fact: Thomas Dolby (not yet famous for "She Blinded Me With Science") is the playing the keyboard on this!
But this wasn't really a joke for the Finn Family. I only owned 2 cassettes, and both were in the car with us.
Now, the reason I only owned 2 cassettes, was that I had finally reach an age where my allowance was such that I could save up and buy my very own music purchases. So I was just at the beginning of my lifelong record collecting habit.
I was 12 years old, and I bought two very super cool hip cassettes: The J Geils Band "Freeze Frame" & Foreigner "4."
It was 1981 and we were making our BIG first family trip, in the blue station wagon, to Disneyworld.
If you've ever driven the East Coast, you have probably spent a large portion of the trip spinning the dial, looking for some kind of consensus music that will satisfy the musical needs of the travelers.
(Yes, this story is so old, that I am mentioning things that barely exist anymore: station wagons, tape recorders and non-digital radio dials that actually need to be spun to be tuned)
By somewhere in Maryland, Dad was ready to try a change. He asked if what I had for my tape recorder.
I looked at the J. Geils tape. Would a song about a high school crush becoming a Playboy Centerfold pass parental muster? Uh, probably not. I passed Foreigner "4" forward.
The tracks were generically rocking enough that we were all tapping along as we made our way down 95. But there was actually some interest when "Waiting For A Girl Like You" came up. Even Mom could overtly like this one.
When the cassette finished, Dad popped it out, and to our surprise, "Waiting For A Girl Like You" was the first song that came up on the next local station we found.
And when that station faded and we picked up another, it was in short order that "Waiting For A Girl Like You" rang out again.
By this time, it was practically a game. We'd try to catch the song in each state we passed through. And we listened to the cassette a couple more times, too.
Between the trip down and the trip back, we heard the tune a couple dozen times. And even today, if by chance someone in the family hears that song, we immediately recall that trip to Florida.
I had this story on the brain, because my wife and I are taking the kids to Florida next week. And now, as a parent, I realized all the sacrifice and savings and planning that go into making a major family trip and I wonder and worry:
30 years later, will my kids mostly just remember a song they heard on the radio?
*fun fact: Thomas Dolby (not yet famous for "She Blinded Me With Science") is the playing the keyboard on this!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Cowboy Junkies "Flirted With You All My Life"
I've blogged before about the dangers of being The Man Who Knew Too Much.
Knowing some background about a song or artist can help, but sometimes it can hurt.
I think the Cowboy Junkies have done the world a tremendous service with their album "Demons." It's a collection of songs written by their late friend Vic Chesnutt.
Despite the excellent readings of these songs, it's just a little too heart-wrenching to hear them sing "Flirted With You All My Life."
This was a track from one of Chesnutt's final records. The "You" in the song is suicide. He sang openly about his lifelong flirtation with suicide. But he sung it in such a way that it made you feel like he had moved on, that he was alright.
Having the Cowboy Junkies take on that song, knowing Vic took his own life, just makes me sad that this was something he couldn't overcome.
That he lost. And we lost.
Knowing some background about a song or artist can help, but sometimes it can hurt.
I think the Cowboy Junkies have done the world a tremendous service with their album "Demons." It's a collection of songs written by their late friend Vic Chesnutt.
Despite the excellent readings of these songs, it's just a little too heart-wrenching to hear them sing "Flirted With You All My Life."
This was a track from one of Chesnutt's final records. The "You" in the song is suicide. He sang openly about his lifelong flirtation with suicide. But he sung it in such a way that it made you feel like he had moved on, that he was alright.
Having the Cowboy Junkies take on that song, knowing Vic took his own life, just makes me sad that this was something he couldn't overcome.
That he lost. And we lost.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Phish "Down With Disease"
The harsh light of day was not forgiving to The Omelet Shoppe.
I was used to coming to the only all-night place in Abingdon after a night out on the town, drinking and listening to music and such. After midnight, before sunrise. At night, the dark hid the dirt. And more importantly, I'm sure the dark (and the drunk) hid how ragged I looked at 3:30am snarfing on an egg sandwich.
But this day, I was here at a time that a big plate of eggs and waffles makes much more sense---brunch.
It was a goodbye breakfast. Goodbye to a girl with whom I'd had a brief, unusual relationship.
Two weeks prior to the breakfast, we'd met and hit it off.
"Figures," she said, "I'm moving in two weeks."
But for young, twenty-something single (and not-uncreative) me, I saw it as an open opportunity.
"Then let's enjoy each other, and skip any of the usual dating B.S."
I realized that we didn't have time, or need, to move cautiously. Or to say "I'll call you" and wait the appropriate number of days so as not to seem too eager. There was no need to present this false-ish "best behavior" version of yourself. Or to not say what was on your mind. It was an opportunity to really let go of the railing and run down the stairs.
There was no need to negotiate, calibrate, or obfuscate. It would be over in two weeks, good, bad or indifferent.
It was good. Skipping the B.S. allowed us to really get to know each other, and be open to each other in a way that other early relationships had never been. She shared much about herself, including her bitterness about her time in Abingdon. The idealism that had brought her to a public service job in the area, had been squashed by insecure bosses and small-minded thinking. And with no sentimental attachment to her time, she had been ready to leave and never look back.
But over breakfast, her car loaded up with all her belongings, ready for the highway, she did have a reason to smile and look in the rearview mirror when she headed up Route 81.
"It's like that Phish song, 'Down With Disease.'"
Uh-oh. I had had a long standing policy against anyone who explained themselves via questionable song lyrics.
What's the line?
"Waiting for the time when I can finally say / That this has all been wonderful but now I'm on my way."
She explained that she had hoped to stick around long enough that some element of her time in town was positive. And now she had.
I liked her philosophy and it made it easier to say goodbye, which we did not long after paying the check.
That was the day I let go of my prejudice against defining yourself through song, that she let go of her prejudice against Abingdon, and that daylight in The Omelet Shoppe was more forgiving that it at first seemed.
I was used to coming to the only all-night place in Abingdon after a night out on the town, drinking and listening to music and such. After midnight, before sunrise. At night, the dark hid the dirt. And more importantly, I'm sure the dark (and the drunk) hid how ragged I looked at 3:30am snarfing on an egg sandwich.
But this day, I was here at a time that a big plate of eggs and waffles makes much more sense---brunch.
It was a goodbye breakfast. Goodbye to a girl with whom I'd had a brief, unusual relationship.
Two weeks prior to the breakfast, we'd met and hit it off.
"Figures," she said, "I'm moving in two weeks."
But for young, twenty-something single (and not-uncreative) me, I saw it as an open opportunity.
"Then let's enjoy each other, and skip any of the usual dating B.S."
I realized that we didn't have time, or need, to move cautiously. Or to say "I'll call you" and wait the appropriate number of days so as not to seem too eager. There was no need to present this false-ish "best behavior" version of yourself. Or to not say what was on your mind. It was an opportunity to really let go of the railing and run down the stairs.
There was no need to negotiate, calibrate, or obfuscate. It would be over in two weeks, good, bad or indifferent.
It was good. Skipping the B.S. allowed us to really get to know each other, and be open to each other in a way that other early relationships had never been. She shared much about herself, including her bitterness about her time in Abingdon. The idealism that had brought her to a public service job in the area, had been squashed by insecure bosses and small-minded thinking. And with no sentimental attachment to her time, she had been ready to leave and never look back.
But over breakfast, her car loaded up with all her belongings, ready for the highway, she did have a reason to smile and look in the rearview mirror when she headed up Route 81.
"It's like that Phish song, 'Down With Disease.'"
Uh-oh. I had had a long standing policy against anyone who explained themselves via questionable song lyrics.
What's the line?
"Waiting for the time when I can finally say / That this has all been wonderful but now I'm on my way."
She explained that she had hoped to stick around long enough that some element of her time in town was positive. And now she had.
I liked her philosophy and it made it easier to say goodbye, which we did not long after paying the check.
That was the day I let go of my prejudice against defining yourself through song, that she let go of her prejudice against Abingdon, and that daylight in The Omelet Shoppe was more forgiving that it at first seemed.
Monday, February 21, 2011
They Might Be Giants "James K Polk"
Here's another Weekend Post:
Happy President's Day!
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.
Happy President's Day!
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.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Semisonic "Closing Time"
Recently I decide to start a weekend feature called "Random Ridiculous Songs That Have No Business Being Played In Public Again But I Heard In The Grocery Store Today."
This song should only be played in bars. Or, if you're really depressed, when you're at home drinking by yourself.
It does not make sense in the supermarket. You can't even buy beer in grocery stores in Massachusetts.
This song should only be played in bars. Or, if you're really depressed, when you're at home drinking by yourself.
It does not make sense in the supermarket. You can't even buy beer in grocery stores in Massachusetts.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The B52s "Butterbean"
Here's another Weekend Post:
This song is so insanely stupid, but wonderful. It's like one of those 80s Chevy Chase comedies that wasn't very good the first time you saw it, but by the 5th time you've seen it, it's the funniest thing ever and you're quoting it non-stop. We loved this one in the UMass dorms. Makes me smile, just thinking about how drunk we must've been.
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.
This song is so insanely stupid, but wonderful. It's like one of those 80s Chevy Chase comedies that wasn't very good the first time you saw it, but by the 5th time you've seen it, it's the funniest thing ever and you're quoting it non-stop. We loved this one in the UMass dorms. Makes me smile, just thinking about how drunk we must've been.
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.
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