Song List for Tiresias #2: Makin' life-sized models of the Velvet Underground in ... papier-mâché
Because clay costs more money than I have these days, and paper's quite cheap, plentiful at every trash receptable at Penn Station (am new york, anyone? not to mention the WSJ and NYT). And glue can be easily made by boiling ground-up rice and manipulating wire hangers.
I listened to more Elton John and sang "Rhiannon" sotto voce whenever I passed Stevie's doppelgänger. But here's this week's top ten, with the aid of iTunes, which not only notes the number of times a track gets played to its end, but also notes the time in which it was played. Minus the times my hijacked copy of Janet Evanovich's Metro Girl accidentally hit play on the iPod while jouncing around in my bag.
1. The new Dixie Chicks album, gotten last Saturday, in spite of the fact that the bank account has yet again dipped into the red zone. I memorized the single, "Not Ready to Make Nice," ever since it was released back in March, and I have loved them ever since their first album, Wide Open Spaces. While I was prepared to like it, I was surprised by my tender feelings for it. The earnest quality of the earlier albums was there, with less of the humor. You weren't going to get a "Goodbye Earl" or "Sin Wagon" out of this one, and the tempo of all the songs never approached the frenetic wastrel energy of a full-on hoedown, complete with gingham and rhubarb pies and pigs in blankets and Natty Lights.
I'm listening to Joy Division ("Love Will Tear Us Apart" on repeat) while I write this. I guess this is my way of trying to achieve objectivity.
The album's smart, anthemic, brash, unapologetic, sweet, sad. Some of the songs translate well to love songs, both lost and found, and some are quite plainly declarations of independence. Take the title track, "Taking the Long Way Around," which evokes some of the same themes in "Wide Open Spaces" and "Ready to Run":
"I met the queen of whatever
Drank with the Irish and smoked with the hippies
Moved with the shakers
Wouldn't kiss all the asses that they told me to."
Of course, this time, their song is not only about independence and following paths that ran counter to the patterns established by all those they knew (will someone please don a white beard and quote some Frost for me here? How bout you, Cass?), but also about The Incident, the words out of Natalie Maines's mouth concerning our current president that sparked a tempest in the teapot and a parting of the ways between the Chicks and Music City and its strict adherence to the cultivation of songs that speak for spunky independent women who shop at Target and buy pastel separates at Talbots, beer drinkin' till four AM and the woman who loves ya anyway, God and His Mighty Power, and the Unconditional Love that moves people to congregate in order to destroy the albums and memorabilia associated with the Dixie Chicks.
Okay, I'm done. It's a good smart country album. They were never anywhere close to Reba McEntire, and this album clearly delineates the great divide between the Chicks and mainstream top 40 country. Which I loathe, with the exception of a very few performers.
2. Aretha Franklin. You haven't heard anything until you hear her cover "Spanish Harlem." And her "Bridge over Troubled Water" is utterly transcendent. And at this point in my life I like her "Eleanor Rigby" better than the original. And it's a toss-up between her "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man" and the one by Gram Parsons. Both are equally soulful and sad and sexy. And I am alliteration queen.
3. Ziggy played guitar for the first time on June 6, 1972, so in honor of this anniversary, I played Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and watched countless clips of Bowie doing amazing concerts. Funny but all of them were taped in Japan. They really love him there.
4. "This time, he's over her for good." George Jones. Have you seen his duets with Tammy Wynette? Tender, so so tender. I don't think he ever stopped loving her today. Even when they placed a wreath upon his door and carried him away.
5. The Cowboy Junkies did this trippy, breathy, atmospheric cover of Gram Parsons's "Ooh Las Vegas" complete with guitar feedback.
6. Emmylou Harris, Red Dirt Girl.
7. Bob Dylan, "Desolation Row."
8. Richard and Linda Thompson, greatest hits. I first came to them by way of a cover, which is how I discover any new favorite obsession. Bonnie Prince Billy did a cover of "Calvary Cross," and from there I discovered Richard and Linda. There is a live version of "Calvary Cross" on my CD, and it's a rollicking thirteen minutes twenty-six seconds, and if I hot-foot it, that's how long it takes for me to get from my place to the Museum of Natural History. When I feel like dancing in my kitchen, I listen to "I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight." I feel as though I should dedicate an entire entry to the songs that one should listen to in one's kitchen, should one feel like dancing in it.
9. Talking Heads, "Psycho Killer" and "Road to Nowhere." And "Heaven." Because I'm corny, and I like to walk through Hell's Kitchen listening to the Talking Heads. Maybe I should have an entry for all the songs one should listen to while walking in Hell's....
10. For some reason, "She Came in through the Bathroom Window" was the most listened-to song from Abbey Road. Sometimes I ignore sequence and go right to that track.
After much deliberation, I decided not to put Tanya Tucker on the list. Maybe she deserves her own entry.
I listened to more Elton John and sang "Rhiannon" sotto voce whenever I passed Stevie's doppelgänger. But here's this week's top ten, with the aid of iTunes, which not only notes the number of times a track gets played to its end, but also notes the time in which it was played. Minus the times my hijacked copy of Janet Evanovich's Metro Girl accidentally hit play on the iPod while jouncing around in my bag.
1. The new Dixie Chicks album, gotten last Saturday, in spite of the fact that the bank account has yet again dipped into the red zone. I memorized the single, "Not Ready to Make Nice," ever since it was released back in March, and I have loved them ever since their first album, Wide Open Spaces. While I was prepared to like it, I was surprised by my tender feelings for it. The earnest quality of the earlier albums was there, with less of the humor. You weren't going to get a "Goodbye Earl" or "Sin Wagon" out of this one, and the tempo of all the songs never approached the frenetic wastrel energy of a full-on hoedown, complete with gingham and rhubarb pies and pigs in blankets and Natty Lights.
I'm listening to Joy Division ("Love Will Tear Us Apart" on repeat) while I write this. I guess this is my way of trying to achieve objectivity.
The album's smart, anthemic, brash, unapologetic, sweet, sad. Some of the songs translate well to love songs, both lost and found, and some are quite plainly declarations of independence. Take the title track, "Taking the Long Way Around," which evokes some of the same themes in "Wide Open Spaces" and "Ready to Run":
"I met the queen of whatever
Drank with the Irish and smoked with the hippies
Moved with the shakers
Wouldn't kiss all the asses that they told me to."
Of course, this time, their song is not only about independence and following paths that ran counter to the patterns established by all those they knew (will someone please don a white beard and quote some Frost for me here? How bout you, Cass?), but also about The Incident, the words out of Natalie Maines's mouth concerning our current president that sparked a tempest in the teapot and a parting of the ways between the Chicks and Music City and its strict adherence to the cultivation of songs that speak for spunky independent women who shop at Target and buy pastel separates at Talbots, beer drinkin' till four AM and the woman who loves ya anyway, God and His Mighty Power, and the Unconditional Love that moves people to congregate in order to destroy the albums and memorabilia associated with the Dixie Chicks.
Okay, I'm done. It's a good smart country album. They were never anywhere close to Reba McEntire, and this album clearly delineates the great divide between the Chicks and mainstream top 40 country. Which I loathe, with the exception of a very few performers.
2. Aretha Franklin. You haven't heard anything until you hear her cover "Spanish Harlem." And her "Bridge over Troubled Water" is utterly transcendent. And at this point in my life I like her "Eleanor Rigby" better than the original. And it's a toss-up between her "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man" and the one by Gram Parsons. Both are equally soulful and sad and sexy. And I am alliteration queen.
3. Ziggy played guitar for the first time on June 6, 1972, so in honor of this anniversary, I played Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and watched countless clips of Bowie doing amazing concerts. Funny but all of them were taped in Japan. They really love him there.
4. "This time, he's over her for good." George Jones. Have you seen his duets with Tammy Wynette? Tender, so so tender. I don't think he ever stopped loving her today. Even when they placed a wreath upon his door and carried him away.
5. The Cowboy Junkies did this trippy, breathy, atmospheric cover of Gram Parsons's "Ooh Las Vegas" complete with guitar feedback.
6. Emmylou Harris, Red Dirt Girl.
7. Bob Dylan, "Desolation Row."
8. Richard and Linda Thompson, greatest hits. I first came to them by way of a cover, which is how I discover any new favorite obsession. Bonnie Prince Billy did a cover of "Calvary Cross," and from there I discovered Richard and Linda. There is a live version of "Calvary Cross" on my CD, and it's a rollicking thirteen minutes twenty-six seconds, and if I hot-foot it, that's how long it takes for me to get from my place to the Museum of Natural History. When I feel like dancing in my kitchen, I listen to "I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight." I feel as though I should dedicate an entire entry to the songs that one should listen to in one's kitchen, should one feel like dancing in it.
9. Talking Heads, "Psycho Killer" and "Road to Nowhere." And "Heaven." Because I'm corny, and I like to walk through Hell's Kitchen listening to the Talking Heads. Maybe I should have an entry for all the songs one should listen to while walking in Hell's....
10. For some reason, "She Came in through the Bathroom Window" was the most listened-to song from Abbey Road. Sometimes I ignore sequence and go right to that track.
After much deliberation, I decided not to put Tanya Tucker on the list. Maybe she deserves her own entry.
posted by hobos in space @ 10:22 AM
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