Dawes "From A Window Seat"

We saw Dawes at Newport Folk a couple of years ago.  I didn't get to see them close up, but they were playing in earshot of the mvy Command Center, where we were streaming the Festival live, and I thought they sounded really great.

Months later, when we got the single "Time Spent In Los Angeles," honestly, I thought it was a little boring sounding.  I chalked up the difference---between the concert and the recording---to the idea that maybe they were just one of those bands where seeing them live was the thing, and I wasn't going to be impressed by the record.

The second single was "A Little Bit Of Everything," and this single had more to sink your teeth into.  It still wasn't really anything (musically) that I hadn't heard before.  No new ground being broken.

But after several listens, I became impressed with this very unusual trick that songwriter Taylor Goldsmith is able to pull off.

He tells 3 stories, each about a person who has loss, trouble, doubts and hope.

No new ground being broken there.

Story about a jumper on a bridge?  It's been done.  Man who lost his son?  Newlyweds with questions?  Pretty standard stuff.

But here's what strikes me about the song.  Goldsmith manages to walk right up to a cliche, and then turn it around before it lands.  He doesn't do something as fancy as flip it on its head, or comment on it ironically.

Instead he simply states that these stories are much more complex that the cliches suggest, and that the existence of complexity in thought and daily life is a simple fact.

And this song and its stories, which seem like they could be a little pat, ring with a greater level of depth.

I was impressed with the trick.  But I didn't expect it to be repeated.

On first listen, Dawes' first single off their new record "Stories Don't End," to me, wreaked of a shortage of ideas.

A song about riding in an airplane?  And he even mentions taking about his notebook and writing a song?

And yet, after dozens of listens, I still find this song pretty intriguing, from the evocative images of the flight attendants' "dance" to the million swimming pools.

Again, he poses a number of existential questions, but doesn't do the cliche thing.

He doesn't try to answer them.

AND, he doesn't say these questions are in-answerable. 

Instead he seems to say that the answers are there, whether we choose to seek them or not.

By not putting his finger right on what he's getting at, he gives us something a little more elusive and real.

He's doing it, by not doing it.

It's a good trick.


Hear "From A Window Seat" on Youtube.


Hear "A Little Bit Of Everything" on Youtube.


Hear "Time Spent In Los Angeles" on Youtube.

Vampire Weekend "Unbelievers"

I write a lot of about this new single or that new single, and talk about the record label's strategy for using it, or MVY's reason to play it or not play it.

And I think, unintentionally, I present the single in the way that many people view it---as something picked by a corporation for maximum market value, to be forced upon radio stations and the listening public.

But the reality is, we don't have to use the single as the song we will play off any record.  We could pick another tune.  There are reasons to not do that, which is a thought for another post.

I did want to point out that choosing a single is often a more organic process that cynics may realize.

Take Vampire Weekend.

Their new record is the Number One album in the country, and their first single "Diane Young" is a Top Ten song on the chart that MVY reports to.

(You can see the chart here.  Scroll down.  MVY is part of the 2nd chart, called the "Triple A R&R/BDS Indicator Chart").

But we didn't play it, because, sonically, it wasn't a good fit for us.

There are somewhere around 50 stations on that chart, but only 37 are playing "Diane Young."

Some stations are probably the kind that would never play Vampire Weekend.  And other stations are probably like MVY, who just found the first single to be a little hard-edged for what they do.

A handful of stations, now including MVY, are playing a different Vampire Weekend song, "Unbelievers."

Some are like MVY, who wanted to support the record, but not the single.  Others were huge supporters of the first single, and have already played it so much that they didn't want to wait for a second single to keep going with the record.

Suddenly an organic groundswell of support appears for "Unbelievers," and the label takes notice.

Without having to pick it themselves, they can actually use this as a promotional pitch to other radio stations to encourage them to pick it up:  "We didn't even put this out as a single.  Stations just started playing it."

And so sometimes a second single is simply chosen by the people who are listening to the record.


Hear the song on Youtube.

The Clash "Hitsville UK"

When I was young, I remember this rumor going around that one of the actresses on "Night Court" was the woman who sang with Meatloaf on "Paradise By The Dashboard Light."

It was a subject of great debate, and great consternation.

We'd watch the music video, and some would say, "This girl doesn't look anything like the girl on 'Night Court.'"  Others would say, "Sure it does.  She's just got different hair and makeup."

And that's about as far as you could take the argument in 1985.

On Monday, I was hanging out with my wife and her brother and his girlfriend, talking about music and such, as we tend to do.

My wife asked, "Who was the woman who sang with Meatloaf on 'Paradise By The Dashboard Light'?"

"It's the woman from 'Night Court'!" I chirped.

"No.  That can't be."

"Not Markie Post.  The one before her."

"Really?"  My wife got out her phone.  "Let me look it up."

About 30 seconds later . . .

"Ellen Foley."

"And click through.  She was on 'Night Court.'"

"Wait," said my brother-in-law.  "Ellen Foley.  I know that name . . . She's the one that sang with The Clash."

"What?  That can't be."  This time it was I who was disputing.

"Yeah!  On 'Sandinista.'"

My wife continued to click through.

"He's right."

Yes, Ellen Foley was on the first 2 seasons on 'Night Court.' 

She also sang the duet with Meatloaf.  But that's not her in the music video---hence the confusion.  Karla Devito lip-synchs Foley's part for the promotional clip.

And yes, Foley was girlfriend to Mick Jones of The Clash.  She sang on "Hitsville UK."

And, some people say (though Mick Jones has dismissed the claim) that "Should I Stay Or Should I Go" was about their rocky relationship.

All this, in less than a minute.

I like living in the internet age!

Hear "Hitsville UK" on Youtube.


Hear "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" on Youtube.

Eric Clapton "Every Little Thing"

I get nice feedback from listeners about some of my on-air storytelling.

Once or twice a day, during a live break on the air, I'll step away from promoting MVY things (other shows, contests, etc) or talking about the music, and instead talk about something from my personal life.

Occasionally, I'll tell a story about my kids.  Something funny they said.  Some humorous conflict we had.

When I meet people out in public, many will say, "I love it when you talk about your kids."

And I do it for a reason.  The stories are usually designed to be universal.  If you've ever had a kid, or if you ever were a kid, you'll find something real and familiar within what I'm conveying.  As a DJ, I'm trying to make a connection.

But I am very, very careful to limit the number of times I do this.  Once or twice a week, tops.

Because nothing is more annoying than a person who talks incessantly about their kids.  Nothing is more cloying than someone constantly forcing "life lessons" upon you, via their so-wise-for-their-age! children.

We love kids and the cute things they do and the sweet way they do it.  But we don't want that in our face every day.

And that's my hesitation with the new Eric Clapton song.

It's an amiable enough piece of mid-tempo pleasant Clapton.  And hey, I understand the desire to put out a second single that is more commercial and middle-of-the-road, after the completely kick-ass, spot-on rock of the first single "Gotta Get Over."

I'm with the track most of the way through, until it returns to the chorus late in the song.

The background singers who've been repeating "Every little thing/Every little thing" throughout the song, have been replaced.  By children.

And they're singing "Every little thing you do is beautiful . . ."

The first time I heard it, I thought, "That's cute.  I guess."

By the second time I heard it, I was already sick of it.

Could I imagine having it in rotation on MVY for the next few months?

Ugh.  Nope.

I love my kids.  I like your kids.  Kids in general are great.

But no one wants to hear about them every day.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Camp "Century Plant"

So I'm hosting The Hot Seat tonight, and I'm doing something overly complicated.

Usually for The Hot Seat, you pick a theme and fill the hour with songs on that theme.

Over the course of the year, I keep notes on things that I think are good possible ideas for Hot Seat themes.  Here are a couple I have considered.

Songs that spell things out (like R-E-S-P-E-C-T).

Great hidden tracks of albums.

Rock artists that improbably threw rap into one of their songs.

They all sound like interesting ideas to me, but none of these themes were ever made into full shows, because I couldn't find an hour's worth of good songs on the subject.

So tonight, instead of having one theme, I'm doing ALL of them.  Four mini-Hot Seats, using each of the three above themes for 15 minutes.

The fourth theme (the last 15 minutes) is the one that I feel like will take me a whole hour to explain.  But here goes:

Songs that appeared in movies about bands that were presented in the film as an original song but was actually a previously released tune written by a famous artist.

Huh?

Okay, maybe an example makes it more simple.

Remember that Michael J Fox movie "Light Of Day" where he and Joan Jett had a bar band?  And they sang a really catchy rocking tune that they wrote?

You may remember that "Light Of Day" was actually a song written by Bruce Springsteen.  He hadn't written it for the film or anything, but he hadn't put it on an album yet, so in the movie, it could seem like an original by the fictional band.

Okay, so songs written for movies don't count.  "That Thing You Do"?  Doesn't fit this theme.

Or that Gwenyth Paltrow movie where she sings karaoke with Huey Lewis?  No, those songs are not being passed off in the film as originals.  So that doesn't fly.

A good example of something that works would be the movie "Velvet Goldmine" which is a Rock N Roll story featuring fictionalized versions of David Bowie and Iggy Pop.  The fictional bands in the movie do songs that are presented as originals, but are actually Roxy Music and Stooges songs.

My favorite example, one that I'll be featuring tonight, comes from a great little indie flick called "Camp."  Camp (featuring a very young future Oscar nominee, Anna Kendrick) precedes the TV show "Glee" by several years, and works on the same theme---kids who are awkward and just want to sing.  It's set in a summer camp, instead of high school.

Part of the storyline is around the campers getting to meet a famous playwright/musician, who hasn't had success since his debut musical.  Near the end of the film, the kids rally around this flagging icon, and sing one of "his" songs.  What a pleasant surprise it was to hear the kids launch into a sweet Victoria Williams song called "Century Plant."

As you can see in the video, the music and lyrics are presented as written by a character in the film, but are actually from a song released many years prior.

That's the 4th theme.

Hey, that only took me 374 words to explain it!

Join me tonight at 9pm ET, to hear my half-ass mishmash of a Hot Seat!


Hear the song on Youtube.


Victoria Williams has two songs in tonight's show.  "Crazy Mary" has spelling in it.  The Hot Seat will feature the Pearl Jam version, but here's Vic singing it, as well has her "Century Plant."


Hear Victoria Williams on Youtube.



Movie trailer for "Camp" on Youtube.



Movie trailer for "Velvet Goldmine" on Youtube.



Movie trailer for "Light Of Day" on Youtube.

Y&T "Summertime Girls"

Here's another Weekend Post:

. . . and if we're going to talk Summertime, hair metal/pop, WBCN songs of the 80s (as I did with yesterday's post), then I should pull out this one too.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Bang "Summertime"

Here's another Weekend Post:

Welcome to the Summertime season . . .

Sometime in my teenage years, I called up WBCN and requested this song, which had been a hit the previous summer.  The DJ reacted with a little bit of surprise.  A tone that suggested that I had asked for something that interested him.  He played it.  I felt like I had done something right.


Hear the song on Youtube.

Rickie Lee Jones "Weasel And The White Boys Cool"

I was watching my 3 year old.  And I was listening to MVY.

My 3 year old was using the family iPad mini.

We'll use it on long car trips, for movies for the kids.  We keep our family calendar on there.  And the kids are allowed to use it as a treat.

My wife has purchased a number of Apps that are good for learning and for art (so we're educating them without them knowing!).  And they like to watch PBS Kids videos.

I was watching my three year old deftly maneuver the touch screen, jumping from App to video and back, as natural as can be.

And then, I watched him take all the desktop shortcuts for all the Apps he uses, and drag them into a single folder.  Next, he took all the shortcuts for things he doesn't care about (like the mvyradio App, for one), and collect them all into another folder.

He's three.

And he'll grow up never knowing a world that didn't have touch screens.

Rickie Lee Jones came on the stream.  "Weasel And The White Boys Cool."  And a lyric stood out to me.

"Weasel ain't got a dime for the phone."

My son will grow up in a world where this line makes no logical sense.  How would one put a dime into a smartphone?

Then I starting thinking, Would my boy ever even hear a song from Rickie Lee Jones?

Rickie Lee's debut record came out 30 years before he was born.

To put that in perspective, I looked up the biggest hit from 30 years before I was born.  It was Perry Como's "Some Enchanted Evening."

If this were an SAT Test, then:

Rickie Lee Jones is to my 3 year old, as Perry Como is to me.

Suddenly, I feel old.
---------------------------------------------
Update: 8:46am

High School friend Doc Brown points out my lousy math on Facebook.

So . . . let me revise.  One of the biggest hits of 1939 was Glenn Miller's "Moonlight Serenade." 

Now I'm really feeling F-N old.  Thanks, Doc!


Hear the song on Youtube.

Mavis Staples "Can You Get To That"

I don't know if we've ever had this happen before.

Rewind the clocks back to winter.

As mentioned a number of times before, there are very, very few new songs released from November through the middle of January.  The record industry slows down before Christmas, then shuts down for the holidays.  New albums don't start appearing until the year is well underway.

But in this period, we will want to be adding new songs to rotation, and it becomes a great opportunity to go back to songs we've missed, or add some personal favorites that we might not otherwise have room for.

The Living Sisters' cover of Funkadelic's "Can You Get To That" was one of those songs that was in my iTunes rotation, and I never wanted to clear it out.  Despite the fact that the song never gained any traction or appeared on any charts or garnered much notice, I kept it among the songs to be considered for rotation on MVY.

And one day this winter I pulled the trigger.

We got a nice response from folks who knew the original and liked the quartet's take on it.  And we got interest from people who weren't familiar with the original, but simply enjoyed the gentle groove.

It's been on the playlist for a couple of months now, and was nearing the end of its run.

Then a funny thing happened.  Mavis Staples released a cover of the same tune.

Staples much anticipated follow up to the "You Are Not Alone" album isn't due out until later this summer, but because she is again working with Wilco's Jeff Tweedy, interest is high.

And what an inspired choice for a first single!

"Can You Get To That" is a great 70s groove.  A song you rarely hear today.  A nice nugget from the past.  And Mavis' version is such an inspired, refreshing choice of songs to cover.

Or, it would seem so, if you haven't been listening to MVY.

For MVY listeners, I wonder if people will hear the new Mavis version, and ask "Why are they playing a different version of the same song?"

It would have been a weird choice for the record company to release this cover, IF The Living Sisters' version had been a hit.  But, as far as I know, mvyradio is the only station in the country playing that version in regular rotation.  So this cover will be a nice surprise/recall to the 70s version, for many non-MVY listeners.  But kind of a weird choice for us.

We're going to retire The Living Sister's version, and start playing the Mavis version.  And her album "One True Vine" will be out later in the summer, and we'll likely be one of the first stations to get off the first single and go on to a second.


Hear the Mavis version on Youtube.


Hear The Living Sisters version on Youtube.


Hear the Funkadelic version on Youtube.

Johnny Cash "I Walk The Line"

There was this girl that I had a huge crush on . . .

Okay, let me stop right there and point out that there are many many entries of this blog that start with some form of that last sentence.  But I don't think I've ever written about this girl before.  It's true, I had a lot of crushes on a lot of girls in my day, but never did I pull of a coup such as this.

It all started 7 years prior, somewhere circa 1993.  I had met this girl at a business meeting and was completely lovestruck in the first 30 seconds when she said, apropos of nothing, "Would you like to hear my imitation of a moose?!"  I was utterly charmed.

I asked her out and, I dunno, something happened.  A miscommunication or something.  And it seemed like she blew me off.  I was crushed.  Not long after, I heard she moved West.

Seven years later, I was walking out of the grocery store and did a double-take.  There she was, walking into the store.

I quickly shoved my groceries in the car and went back in, to find that item I, um, forgot.  Yeah.  I forgot toilet paper.  So even if I tried to talk to her and she blew me off again, at least we'd have extra toilet paper at 7 Maples.

But she didn't blow me off.  She remembered me.  We chatted.  I played it cool.  I asked her what she was doing for work.  Told her that now that she was back in town, I'd see her around.

And then I stalked her.

Okay, not really stalked her.  I mean, it just so happened that my favorite coffee shop was right across the street from the office where she was working.  So I'd go there every day, and sit at a table and read a book and hope she'd come for a coffee break.  Or that she'd leave the office at the same moment I was leaving the coffee shop, so I could wave to her.

It did happen from time to time.

She was very friendly and warm, and she prolonged the conversations.  She seemed interested.  Right up to the point where I'd say, "So and so is having a party this weekend . . ." and she'd say that she had something going on.

One night on the town, I figured out where the resistance was coming from.  I saw her in a local bar with a nicely dressed, good looking dude.

Okay, so she's seeing somebody.  But I think she's still interested in me.  Because in all our conversations, she never mentions this guy.  I think I have a shot.

I needed to do two things.

I needed a way to get her to hang out with me, without it seeming like she was on a date.  Because if she was seeing someone, she wouldn't go out on a date.  But if it were just a night out---not a date---then she could say Yes.

Secondly, I had to pitch an irresistible line. And I found that line:


Hear the line, on Youtube.

Well, I didn't say "Hello I'm Johnny Cash" to her.  What I said was, "I have an extra Johnny Cash ticket, would you like to go?"

Now understand, this wasn't just a ticket to see Johnny Cash.  This was an opportunity to see him at The Carter Family Fold.

I'm sure you know the Johnny Cash story.  He married June Carter, who was a member of the famous Carter Family, known as some of the originators of what we call country music.  The Carter Family had a farm not far from where I lived in Virginia.  And on Saturday nights, they opened up their barn for concerts, usually featuring bluegrass and Old Time bands.  But June had a new album out, and she was putting on a concert, and Johnny, as well as their son John, were on the bill.  My friends and I scored 10 tickets.

Come with me and my friends to see what would perhaps be the last chance to ever see Johnny Cash (and yes, it turned out to be one of his last ever live performances)?

She couldn't say no.

And no unmentioned boyfriend in the world could veto an invitation like that.

We met up on the day of the show, and, as preplanned, my friends got into two four-seater cars, in two groups.  No room for anyone else in either of those cars.  That left two people behind.  Me and my non-date.

"We can take my car, I guess," I said, nonchalantly.

And that was my whole plan.  To be nonchalantly awesome.  

I had music by her favorite artist on the tape deck in my car.  I had racked up and road-tested a dozen stories to tell, just in case the conversation slowed.  I made her come up to the concession stand with me, and I bought her a 50 cent ice cream sandwich, which came off as wholesome and charming---all part of the plan.

The Carter Family Fold is literally a barn-like structure, built into a hill.  If you get there late, you can sit on the hillside and look into the open side of the barn.  But if you get there early, you can sit inside, because it's first-come, first serve.  And these are not Skybox seats we're talking about.  These were wooden benches, made "softer" because they had rug samples stapled to them.

We wanted to get there very, very early.  Mostly because we wanted to be close-up to Johnny Cash.  But yeah, it didn't hurt that this extended my non-date.

I was deftly managing to walk the thin line between date and non-date, quite well.  Being fairly awkward as a rule, telling myself this wasn't a date took a lot of the pressure off.  I was only off my balance once, when one of my friends made the crack to her about "PJ doesn't bring all his dates to a show like this."  I shot laser eyes at him to indicate: "THIS IS NOT A DATE."

Hours were passing and my material was running low, but The Plan was working.  I felt like I was winning her over.  And then . . .

"Hello, I'm Johnny Cash."

He was old and he was grey and he was hoarse.  But he was Johnny Mother-F-N Cash and he was standing right in front of us singing "Big River."  He was playing straight man to the ever hilarious June.  And when he ceded the stage to let her sing, he would sit on the bench in the back, and somehow, miraculously, cease to be "Johnny Cash."  Somehow, miraculously, he could turn that charisma off and become human again.  Only to fire it back up when it was his turn to absolutely slay the crowd by singing "Far Side Banks Of Jordan" with June.

When it was over and we exited The Fold, we, along with the crowd, shared in the buzz of knowing that we'd just seen something pretty special, we'd witnessed a moment in time that we'd carry with us for the rest of our musical lives.

The ride home with her was quiet, as was appropriate for the ringing in our ears, the winding dark Virginia roads, and the brilliantly starry, crystal-clear sky.

I was at peace, knowing that despite the many, many disappointments and failures I had had in my dating days, I couldn't have made this night any better.

We reached home, and I distinctly remember the sound of my car door shutting, as I walked her to her car.  And when I heard that sound, I knew it was over.

"Well, thanks," she said.

"That was amazing, huh?"

"Yeah.  It was.  Thanks again."

"We'll do it again sometime," I said, pitching it somewhere halfway between a question and a suggestion.

"Uh, yeah, yeah.  Of course."  The hesitancy had returned.

"I'll see you down the coffee shop."

But the magic of seeing Johnny Cash, live and in person, was never coming back, and neither was this moment with her.  She had a boyfriend, and the temporary effects of a Johnny Cash show weren't going to override that.

Sometimes, even when you walk the line perfectly, she's still going to end up on the far side banks from where you are.  No matter how awesomely nonchalant you walk it.


Hear the song on Youtube.


Hear "Far Side Banks Of Jordan" on Youtube.