August 7, 2009 Earworm

I've talked before about all those issues of Punk Magazine that would turn up in rural Maryland like divine gifts back in '77, providing glimpses of a world (CBGB's) I'd never seen and talk of music I'd yet to hear. But, I doubt that I've ever mentioned that Willy DeVille - and some fishnet clad, Ronettes revisit called Toots, his first wife, I would later learn - were the first people of that world I ever saw. They weren't attractive but I somehow knew that I'd like what they were doing. And, I was right because, if Springsteen had been Italian and had married a Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx, and loved black doo-wop and R&B more than anything else, he'd have been Willy DeVille. And, if Springsteen managed to reach Spectorian heights with "Born To Run", he couldn't top Willy because Willy got some of the finest brick layers of the wall of sound for not one, not two, but three of his albums.

Willy, with the Mink moniker, managed to work with Jack Nitzsche, Steve Douglas, and Doc Pomus but, even if I'd known this at the time, I would not have been savvy enough to connect them to the names that I may or may not have noticed on the labels of those forty-fives of my parents that meant so much to me. In fact, it mattered little because I didn't get around to a copy of those albums until the original Mink DeVille had already split up.

He'd never reach Springsteen heights, hampered with a heroin addiction and a face that lacked charm, but he had a slew of tracks that were far worthier and a Grammy nod of his own for "Storybook Love" from "The Princess Bride"(losing to "The Time of My Life" from "Dirty Dancing" must have hurt but losing to one of the Righteous Brothers probably made it hurt a little less). I've already mentioned "Something Beauty Dying", one of his finest moments with Doc Pomus and of his not so great mid-eighties output, so I'll put "Mixed Up, Shook Up Girl", from "Cabretta", on display instead. It was the first Mink DeVille song I ever heard and loved so it's a good way to start the end.

August 6, 2009 Earworm

According to IMDB, John Hughes wrote or contributed to thirty-seven movies. He is loved for most of them and revered for a few that include "Sixteen Candles","The Breakfast Club", and "Pretty In Pink". If you haven't seen them, your teenage years in no way crossed the eighties.

Critics have claimed that the endings tended to be a bit too forced and the intermingling amongst the types to be romanticized at best. After watching them again since Hughes' passing, I find that I still disagree. Part of the charm of these movies was watching those moments, however brief, when kids with different ideals were forced to come to terms with what the real world would offer after school was completely out, when the safety of the pack mentality would be disrupted by transitions, and each individual would be left to stand alone on his or her merit, with only their record collections to provide clues as to how they defined themselves.

Hughes was known for using music like no one ever had at that point and the song choices always came from the left bank of the mainstream of American pop culture and, if not at the time of release then at the time of filming, just ahead of the curve. I never saw one of his movies without thinking, "I can't believe he used _____!!". Each film had a moment where the scene and the song would meld so perfectly that I would never hear the song without seeing a Hughes visual again. "Sixteen Candles" and Thompson Twins' "If You Were Here" comes to mind first, but there's also one of those moments in "Pretty In Pink" and it's even better.

Having declared himself through with Andie after she destroys a dream that he's waited years to come true by choosing another boy, a rich boy named Blane, to fall for, Duckie's world has crumbled. Unaware of Duckie's feelings or unwilling to see them - a vagueness that is just one of the many problems with "Pretty In Pink" that makes it the weakest of the three films, she further humiliates his desires by bringing the rich boy to the very club that he's finally managed to slip in to - under the pretense of being the son of Iona, Andie's boss and mother figure - after months of waiting outside night after night for her. Andie's world has also been shaken as her first romance forces her to mingle with the rich crowd that treats her like trash, and then again, when Duckie treats Blaine with equal disdain. Iona, herself, gets a jolt when Duckie gives her a kiss full of pent-up needs and anger to spite Andie, making her aware of what's missing in her relationships.

Cue the anxious and tentative plinkety plink opening of New Order's "Shellshock" as we see morning after begin and Duckie once again on riding his bike in circles just out of sight of Andie's house, unable to stay away, hoping he won't see something that makes his heart stop beating.

Bravo.

August 5, 2009 Earworm

As a singer, Paula Abdul is a damn fine dancer but she managed to put across a few fine pop confections during her brief time on the music radar. "Cold Hearted" still makes me wiggle and I still think that "Rush Rush" is a lovely clump of romantic cotton candy. But, her flat out awesome moment began and ended with "Straight Up". I've not watched "American Idol" since the end of season two but I can't imagine watching it without her there to soften the bray of Simon Cowell's t-shirts and the constant "Dawging" of Randy "I was only good enough for the touring band of Journey so I need to constantly remind you that I got street cred" Jackson.

Rumor has it that she might end up as a judge on "So You Think You Can Dance" and I look forward to not watching her on that program. I'll just watch the "Straight Up" video instead and be thankful that there's no rapping cartoon cat (or Dawg).

August 4, 2009 Earworm

Proper respect should be given to Green Day's opening act as well because the Kaiser Chiefs still managed to get us moving despite a crappy sound system and the rudeness of the crowd. Unfortunately, they didn't include their wicked cover of "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" where they obviously imagine the original was done not by Marvin or Gladys but The Clash circa "Sandanista". It's said that they tossed this together during a three hour layover for inclusion on "Help: A Day In The Life", the 2005 installment of the War Child benefit albums - one that couldn't get what would have been a very helpful US release - and it sounds like it in all the best ways.

August 3, 2009 Earworm

It's been obvious for sometime that Billie Joe Armstrong is enjoying being a rock star. As Green Day has morphed into whatever it is that Green Day now is, their television appearances have captured a band leader in full swing and control of his audience. Fortunately, none of that Bono smug smudged him when both bands came together to herald the arrival of the saints.

After seeing them jump start my August last Saturday, it became clear that Billie Joe's idea of "one" is more about the audience than it is about him or his band. Considering the personalities the trio have shown, both individually and collectively, that is no small achievement. Arena sized acts rarely include audience participation and I can't think of another that polls the audience for anyone who can play a particular song on guitar and then give hand guitar duties for said song to a lucky musician to be. And, while it is not unusual for an arena sized act to allow the audience to take the chorus on a song, I'm unaware of one giving up the microphone for one of their biggest songs - in this case, "Longview" - to one audience member per verse. To be clear, these were not "let me jump in the audience and point the mic" moments, these people were brought on stage and unleashed and, in the case of the not so novice guest guitarist, an energy that matched Billie Joe's was set loose, keeping perfect manic pace with the leader of the band's cheerleader on black beauties antics.

Still, the moment my heart briefly stopped was when "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" stopped being the (first) cell phone waving moment and opportunity for the crowd to fill in the "I walk alone, I walk alone" lyric. Going into the second chorus, Billie Joe didn't bother coming in at all, and allowed a surprised audience to take it all the way home. And they did. They struggled a bit with the first two lines but nailed "Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me" and upon completing "'Til then I walk alone" you could see the surprise in everyone's face that they weren't, in fact, walking alone at all. And if you think I was being a sentimental fool imagining things but I've talked with many attendees of this tour, including my bro-date for the evening, and they all saw it, too. The kids were alright and, for a few moments, no one was alone. For the sake of brevity, I won't even go into the "21 Guns" moment except to say that I knew he'd never be able to hit that note night after night and that it really didn't matter at all.

I'm glad to see Billie Joe's rock and roll dreams come true because I think that right now we need a rock star who still has snot on his nose and isn't afraid to let his audience be offended by the things he stands for or against and who will let an obviously intoxicated six foot pink bunny warm up the crowd by leading them on the "YMCA" dance. And, all for the low, low price of fifty-bucks. Regardless of where you sat.