June 20, 2008 Earworm

I've read that Phil Spector once said that The Four Tops' "Bernadette", "is a black man singing Dylan" and when you listen to Levi Stubbs' delivery, you certainly get the point. With that in mind, I suggest that The Four Seasons' "Beggin'" has an italian man singing Stubbs singing Dylan. He doesn't sing the lyric as much as spit it out. While the rest of the guys provide their usual smooth groove, the mix puts them so far from the lead that they could be in another room if not on another record that just happened to be playing. Meanwhile, Frankie sounds as though he's out on the window ledge singing for his life while about a zillion percussion tricks chant "JUMP".

Bob Crewe was never known for subtlety with his productions and what "Beggin'" lacks in his usual bombast, is more than made up for with business. From the "miss mary mac" handclapping to the tea kettle on the edge of a nervous breakdown string line, everything practically screams "The sky is falling" and the usually steady Valli struggles to keep his balance. That it all comes - and stays - together so beautifully is a feather in the cap of not Charlie Callelo, Crewe's preferred arranger, but of Artie Schroek who should of one not only a Grammy but a Pritzker for keeping the whole thing from tumbling down. Co-writer Peggy (Santiglia) Farina, by the way, should have received an Oscar for best screenplay.

"Beggin'" peaked at #16 during the spring of '67, a busy time for all parties, was sandwiched between two top ten Four Seasons singles - "Tell It To The Rain" and "C'mon Marianne" - and competing with Valli's solo effort,"Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You". Something was bound to get lost in the shuffle and it's not surprising that something that sounded this troubled took the fall.

Last year, Pilooski respectfully re-mixed it - recognizing near perfection when he heard it, I assume - and in it's new form celebrated its fortieth birthday while sitting on top of the UK dance charts.

Check out the video for the re-mix and have a great weekend.

June 19, 2008 Earworm

Like "I Heard It Through The Grapevine", Gordon Lightfoot's "The Circle Is Small (I Can See It In Your Eyes)" is about betrayal. And like "Grapevine", his complaint is about infidelity but his real problem is with indiscretion because he finds himself to be the last to know. Anyone with a circle of friends can understand just how fast those Chinese whispers become a chorus and yet no one really knows the story. Since repetition is everything when it comes to the choicest gossip, Gord is true to form here, repeating the chorus so often that it essentially switches roles with the verse.

He must have loved this song as much as I - or closely identified with its theme - because he recorded it twice: first in 1968 for his "Back Here On Earth" album, and again in 1978 for "Endless Wire". I wonder how we would approach it now in these days of multiple social networking sites, email, and instant messages.

The single peaked at #33, probably because everyone wants to hear a story unless the story is about them.

June 18, 2008 Earworm

I'm told that it's all a part of getting older when the odds change in favor of the grim reaper touching your life with surprising frequency. In the past week I've learned of the recent passing of someone who wandered in and out of my circles so many times throughout the years. Although we were never close, we were always happy to see each other, and his smile once prompted my mother to say, "That boy has got to have one of the sweetest hearts...". Last night brought news of another distant orbiter - practically a cousin due to the closeness of our mothers - who is no longer keeping pace with the world around us. For so many years his clumsy steps and oblivious actions left violent waves in his volatile wake, yet those of us on the shore continued to throw out the life preservers and pray for a happy ending for him and his family.

Old friends, distant relatives, trusted newsmen, musical innovators, and celluloid goddesses: everyone has their time and then a time to go, a fact that becomes more evident with each passing year. And since it's hard to find comfort in a fact when the fact is cold and hard, we hope for peace for the departed and try to imagine a better place where every thing shines as brightly as the stars in the heavens.

The beautiful scenarios that we create in an attempt to find our own peace amongst the facts deserve their own theme songs and I'm finding comfort in "Santa Clara" by The National because they don't mind seeing ghosts and know that they all are going to be "cool happy genius heroes" in our hearts for as much time as we have left. In "Santa Clara", it's recognized that it's up to us, the left behind, to create the happy ending for those who no longer can.

To sway for: Cyd Charisse

Tula Ellice Finklea
March 8, 1922 – June 17, 2008

June 17, 2008 Earworm

I'm still not sure if it is a surreal to-do list or a recap of how we got here but Brendan Benson's "Folksinger" is in an awful big hurry to get on with it; taking just enough time to drop his side of the story and build us a beautiful bridge that reminds me of Nilsson at his finest. In fact, the whole "Lapalco" album has the taste of "Pandemonium Shadow Show" atop a crispy Big Star crust with a side of Raspberries and one a fine meal that makes. The guy should be huge in his own right, in cahoots with Jason Falkner, or as a Raconteur.

June 16, 2008 Earworm

I'm sorry that I don't remember the particular comedian's name but, when asked what a fish logo on the back of a car means, he replied, "Somebody doesn't know how to spell Jesus".

To me, it means that the soldier in front of me is going to make my trip hell. I've been paying attention this a lot lately and the odds are that if I find myself behind a fishmonger, then I'll be crying out, "Jesus Christ,would you please learn how to drive before you get us killed!". I don't know if this an overwhelming trend specific only to the ever sprawling Atlanta metro area or if others are suffering from it as well but someone needs to step up so I guess it will be me offering up a word to the pious.

Just because you're looking for Jesus doesn't mean that it's acceptable for you to drive twelve miles below the speed limit, suddenly speed up to twenty miles over said limit only to suddenly hit the brakes and drop down to 21 in the 40 zone. What are you doing up there, reading the good book? Isn't that out on tape already? Besides, if Jesus is so hard to find, try asking God - he's your co-pilot, right?! I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours but, really, the only difference between you and the asshole swerving in out of the other lane while chatting on the phone and flossing his teeth is that you have declared your convictions via a logo: in essence, you're an asshole with an easily recognized logo and equally as dangerous to those of us you believe need to be saved. And no matter how many times your inability to focus on more than one thing scares the hell out of me, I still won't believe in your vision. But, should you succeed in getting me killed and it turns out you were right, I'm sure you will be the first to say, "Told you so".

Which brings me to Depeche Mode; the little synthpop band that everyone who ever dipped their ears in the water just outside of the mainstream used as their example of being "into Alternative Music". From the moment I first heard the plinkety plunk love to love you giddiness of "Just Can't Get Enough" I'd been unable to fully commit to Depeche Mode. Like those who only visit the church on high holidays and weddings, I would buy the twelve inch singles they churned out as soon as they hit the import racks, paying nearly twice as much as I would have if I'd only waited a few weeks for the domestic release, but buy one of their albums?! Not until I could get a promo or cut out copy priced sensibly at $1.99, thank you very much. Besides, there was bound to be someone around me who had it and those who had it seemed to have entered into some unholy alliance where their end of the agreement was to play the damn thing to death.

Dipping into the recent Rhino/Mute re-issue program - and still, only when I find them in the second hand shops - I'm surprised by the obvious growth the boys demonstrated with each release and have to admit that I may have been wrong. While I have always been willing to claim "Construction Time Again" and "Black Celebration" as albums that I have (belatedly) loved, that love has been attributed to the fact that each one vividly recalls the time of my life in which they were released. Recent listening, however, makes me realize that maybe others were right all along - if not for the right reasons. As much as the sound is undeniably 1983, the lyrics are not only timeless but, in the case of "Told You So" for example, razor sharp and precise: "...standing in line the blind lead the blind/waiting and waiting for an overdue sign - brothers and sisters playing chinese whispers/if things aren't suited, then they'll get diluted..." As they grew increasingly aware of the world around them and the gray matter between black and white, their records became darker and fuller, exploring the many facets of a scenario without falling back on sloganeering.

Depeche Mode would eventually achieve what many of us thought unbelievable: "Personal Jesus" would become the biggest selling 12" single in Sire's history to date, they'd hit the US top ten with "Enjoy The Silence", and they'd debut at number one on both the US and UK album charts with "Songs of Faith and Devotion", all of which were pretty miraculous considering the humble beginnings of "Dreaming of Me" barely a decade before. Yet it probably wasn't until legendary hipster producer Rick Rubin had Johnny Cash record "Personal Jesus" that Depeche Mode felt truly justified in saying, "told you so".

To watch: