Some Songs Considered

“Born to Be Wild” – Steppenwolf
(Words/music: Mars Bonfire, available on Steppenwolf, MCA Records 1968) 

One time in a college writing class, I wrote a short story inspired by a local news story about noise complaints directed toward bikers on the other side of town.  In my story, these bikers noisily gathered in front of the GAP and talked about philosophy.  I thought I was being clever by subverting the local reputation of the bikers as aged hooligans – a feeling that only grew when I titled my story “Easy Rider.”  When my professor asked about it, I told him that I wanted to build on “the film’s cliché scene – the one that everybody parodies.”  I hadn’t seen Easy Rider at that point, so my knowledge of the film came filtered through the endless barrage of commercials and second-rate films that soundtracked motorcycles with “Born to Be Wild.” 

In short, I was young and skilled at spotting clichés.  I often missed the thought that many clichés become tired because everyone wants to recapture the original’s magic.  When I finally saw Easy Rider, I understood why everyone wants “Born to Be Wild” playing behind motorcycle scenes – the opening sequence used it perfectly.

When I heard about Dennis Hopper’s passing this afternoon, I thought about Easy Rider soon afterward, and I started thinking about “Born to Be Wild.”  I’ve realized that there are only a handful of songs that come with such a strong visual attachment, but I’m not sure if any of them are as complete as the “Born to Be Wild” – Easy Rider union.  The two match each other in tone and attitude, and to someone a few generations together, are equal parts of the cultural zeitgeist of the counter-culture ‘60s.  Even if commercials made “Born to Be Wild” into a cliché, it still sounds badass when it’s backing Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper.  This is a case where being a cliché is a compliment. 

More on Steppenwolf: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“The Waiting” – Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
(Words/music: Tom Petty, available on Hard Promises, MCA 1981) 

One of my first dates with my girlfriend Jenny was to see the band Rilo Kiley in Providence.  I drove two hours to meet her there without knowing if I’d have to drive home that night or if I had a place to stay because it was so early on that assuming these kinds of things wasn’t an option.  Regardless, I got up to Providence early, in part because I over-compensate for long car trips and quite honestly I was excited to see her and got out of the house quickly that day.  Due to the erratic nature of public transportation, Jenny ran late, so I found myself parked in the coffee shop of a chain bookstore waiting for her to arrive.  This was, for several reasons, one of the few points in my life where I actively wrote in a journal, so I was in the habit of spending idle minutes writing.  So I started riffing on a napkin (my journal was elsewhere) using the title line from this song as a jumping off point.  The gist of it, from what I remember of it at least – it’s been a while, was that waiting can make the even that much better.  More specifically, I didn’t mind waiting a little longer if it meant time with Jenny.

It’s worth stressing that this line was out of context, as Petty’s song doesn’t focus on the dreadful wait.  Most of the song is on the ease of being with the person he loves.  Even if the complete spectrum of Petty’s narrator wasn’t on my brain that day, our brains were in the same place – specifically, that the eventual result made the anticipation even better.  Roughly two years after that date (and two years after our first one), it’s this ease of being with Jenny that marvels me the most.  Having her in my life makes any waiting period - whether the years I waited to meet her or just the time between seeing her again – worth it. 

It’s appropriate that Jenny gets post 501, as the first five hundred wouldn’t have happened without her constant encouragement and inspiration.  If everyone needs his or her own cheering section, Jenny’s love and support feels like a sellout crowd every night.  I hope I can return the favor for her. 

More on Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Parker’s Band” – Steely Dan
(Words/music: Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, available on Pretzel Logic, MCA 1974) 

A while back, The Onion published a piece titled “Donald Fagen Defends Steely Dan to Friends,” and like the best types of satire, the article touches on a lot of truth.  In it, “Fagen” lists off pretty much every defense a Steely Dan superfan offers to non-interested parties.  The fact that “wry, perfectly crafted lyrics” appears so early in this mock defense makes sense only because it’s a frequent point of praise.  It’s always surprised me how quickly that comes up.  I’ve always been attracted to their musical chops first and then found certain lyrics amusing (or, ignored them altogether).  So my appreciation (and defense, I suppose) begins with their musical chops and usually bridges into Becker and Fagen’s skill as arrangers.  The lyrics would come last, somewhere between icing on the cake and a complete afterthought.

That’s the exact way my appreciation for “Parker’s Band” evolved.  The lead guitar and quick pace first caught my attention.  Then I recognized the efficient arrangement – clocking in under three minutes partially due to its quick pace but partially due to its tight structure.  Only after the music hooked me in did I start picking up on all the clever references to jazz saxophonist Charlie Parker.  Fagan references his hometown of Kansas City, his one time record label Savoy, and his nickname “Bird.”  There’s also likely references to some of his tunes (“Groovin’ High”), his competition (“dizzy weekend” perhaps as a nod to trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie) and even Parker’s heroin habit.  In the end, the cleverness of working in these references (and having the lyrics still make sense beyond a series of in-jokes) put the song over the top.  Mr. Fagan needn’t remind me about his connection to Chevy Chase – I’m already listening.

More on Steely Dan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Who Are You (Single Edit)” – The Who
(Words/music: Pete Townshend, available on Thirty Years of Maximum R&B, MCA 1994) 

The Who sounded fine last night at the Super Bowl – not quite revelatory yet not quite embarrassing – and provided enough overly-obvious age-related fuel for people who think that they are funny.  The band’s medley of CSI theme songs sidestepped the question I wondered going into the weekend – would Roger Daltrey still sing the “who the fuck are you” line in “Who Are You?”

In reality, I knew it wouldn’t happen; I imagine that Super Bowl producers have snipers waiting for anyone who might go off script.  I only raise this question because this is an obscenity that frequently makes its way onto the radio.  It doesn’t happen every time, but it happens regularly enough for me to stop noticing it as something out of the ordinary.  I don’t mention this because I’m offended, but rather that I’m curious.  Sure, Daltrey runs through the line quickly, but it’s not exactly a subtle obscenity either.  If nothing else, I’m fascinated by it – do radio programmers not notice it, or did someone sign off on it? In any case, I found this far more interesting than commenting on the band’s age this weekend.

More on The Who: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me (Live)” – George Michael and Elton John
(Words/music: Elton John and Bernie Taupin, available on Duets, MCA 1992) 

Maybe it’s from a lifetime of waiting rooms filled with easy listening music, but given the right circumstances a sappy song hits the spot.  It’s not necessarily a specific mindset; it could just be a moment where a chord change captures my attention or a harmony makes me look up from what I’m doing.  This isn’t to say that every bit of muzak can stir a soul.  Rather, there are moments that deserve more than something to cover up the sound of magazine pages flipping.

“Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me” immediately comes to mind.  It’s not the smartest or deepest Elton John song.  I don’t even really have a deep personal attachment or association with this song the way I do with a song like “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters.”  It’s just an extremely well written ballad with some stunning moments.  Particularly, the harmony at the beginning of the chorus melts my heart even on my grumpiest days.  When put into George Michael’s hands – (whose tabloid tales overshadow his pipes) – this approaches ballad perfection.  I don’t watch American Idol (mainly because I don’t watch a lot of TV) but I imagine this is similar to the show’s transcendent moments – where a gifted singer takes a beautiful song and rivals the original.  For me, at least, this is the definitive version, and the one that I’d actually listen to outside of a waiting room.

More on George Michael: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Get By” – Talib Kweli
(Words/music: Talib Kweli, Nina Simone, and Kanye West, available on Quality, MCA 2002) 

Jay-Z, arguably the most successful man in hip hop this past decade, pays Talib Kweli a strong compliment on the track “Moment of Clarity.”  “If skills sold, truth be told, I’d probably be lyrically Talib Kweli.”  It’s somewhat of a backhanded compliment, as Jay says he’d give Kweli a run for his money if it made money, but it’s a compliment nonetheless.  By the time Kweli went beyond his relationship with DJ Hi-Tek and started rhyming over others’ beats, he established his reputation as one of hip hop’s most gifted lyricists.  Even if pairing him with Jay-Z’s producers (in this case, a pre College Dropout Kanye West) didn’t yield Jay’s SoundScan numbers, it broadened Kweli’s range.

Of course, skills alone don’t sell, but the “Sinnerman”-spinning beat on “Get By” makes Kweli sound like the most vital MC in the land.  West’s bouncy piano beat lets Kweli excel with his occasionally off-rhythm rhymes; when Kweli deviates from the beat – particularly when he spits a longer phrase at a quicker pace – he sounds like a soloist embellishing on a melody.  By deliberately breaking the form, Kweli gains a fluidity to his rhymes, letting him play in the space between those piano chords and drum notes the way that few other MCs would dare to attempt.  He always finds his way back onto the beat though, and his embellishments never obstruct his lyrics – top notch, of course.  “Get By” would be a winner with just Kweli, the drums, and the piano, but the vocal adornments make the track soar.  Whether Simone’s sampled vocals, the small choir singing the hook, or West’s secret weapon John Legend reaching for the back row, these additions give “Get By” a fuller feel.  Even if it’s a bit of a generalization, “Get By” remains one of the finest tracks in both Kweli and West’s body of work (not the career defining highlight for either, but certainly on their “best of” collections), and if that sounds like my own backhanded compliment, it’s meant as an endorsement of this track.

More on Talib Kweli: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” – Steely Dan
(Words/music: Walter Becker and Donald Fagan, available on Pretzel Logic, MCA 1974)

Aside from eye rolling, the most popular image of Steely Dan connects to their perfectionism in the studio.  Rightfully so, as Steely Dan essentially consists of Walter Becker, Donald Fagan, and a cavalcade of hotshot studio players, each selected to bring their particular talents to a given song.  This concept of Becker and Fagan as studio hermits makes them seem more like producers and arrangers than musicians and undercuts their skill as songwriters.  Without some killer songs, I can’t imagine Becker and Fagan recruiting the type of players they feature on their records.  More importantly, their chops as songwriters keep these sessions from devolving into endlessly meandering jams.  That’s not to say that some of their songs aren’t self-indulgent (hence the eye rolling from many), but most of their best songs feel grounded by melody.

“Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” especially when compared with some of the other songs on Pretzel Logic, isn’t as flashy.  Instead, it relies on a fairly simple arrangement and its laid back feel.  Even the guitar solo – flawlessly executed, per usual – feels restrained.  Becker and Fagan’s sense of arranging keeps the song from feeling overcrowded by any extraneous instrumentation, letting the song breathe naturally.  The most interesting part of the song (to me, at least) is the bridge.  If the chorus of a song gets the most attention, the bridge (or “middle eight” to some) plays the supporting role that pushes the entire production over the top.  Here, the bridge modulates slightly (I’m rusty on my chord theory, forgive me) – just enough to distinguish itself from the rest of the song and leave our ears waiting for the chorus to come back one more time.  Fagan also saves his key lines for the bridge, revealing his narrator’s resolve when the harmonic shift grabs our attention.

More on Steely Dan: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Radar Love” – Golden Earring
(Words/music: Barry Hay and George Kooymans, available on Moontan, MCA 1973)

The words in “Radar Love” detail a weary driver trying to find motivation for completing his long and arduous trip to his love.  It could also be about the song “Radar Love” itself – the main character finds himself driving faster and faster with thoughts of his love, his wish for his trip to end, and the music pumped out of the radio.  Aside from the time-space ramifications, “Radar Love” could be the song this guy’s listening to as he’s speeding off into the sunset.  Long regarded as one of the great “driving songs” of the classic rock era, I’m sure that plenty of us have had that same moment in the car where “Radar Love” comes on and the accelerometer slowly climbs.  Aside from being a song about driving fast, “Radar Love” feels perfect for those long stretches of open highway where the car stereo is our only company.

Radar Love achieves this “turbo boost” (or, as the song suggests, the “voice in my head that drives my heel”) by the way it builds up to the chorus.  Even though the song maintains the same galloping tempo the entire song, it feels like it’s speeding up as the song builds up to the free-wheeling chorus.  The prominent bass line helps to create this effect and makes the song sound like it’s constantly trying to catch up with the steady drumming.  Every time the song adds a new layer – whether it’s the horn section or the brief bits of lead guitar in the verses, it feels like another car pulling along side us threatening to pass in front of us.  Just as the song feels like it’s racing to the chorus, we steadily (and in my case at least, subconsciously) push our foot down just a little bit more.  Even once the chorus ends and the song starts building again, we’re never given the cue to slow down; instead, we start accelerating again as it builds back up.  By the time the chorus hits, I’m ready to sing along, paying little attention to how fast I’m speeding by the other cars.  I’m just not entirely sure why the song’s called “Radar Love,” as the radar gun will be the exact thing that ruins this party.

More on Golden Earring: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Join Together” - The Who
(Words/music: Pete Townshend, available on Thirty Years of Maximum R&B, MCA 1994)

“Join Together” evokes mixed feelings in me as someone who things about music.  As a song, “Join Together” doesn’t belong among the Who’s best songs yet sits right at the top of their second tier.  The mouth harp and the penny whistle near the end makes it a little goofy, but overall it’s a fine rock single propelled along by Keith Moon’s start/stop drumming.  I’m talking about the ideas that the song presents about the role of music.  “Join Together,” released as a single in 1972, was part of Pete Townshend’s Lifehouse project – a rock opera (that later became the songs on Who’s Next) about a dystopian future where music was the only refuge from a large, internet-like “grid” that all of humanity was connected to (Wikipedia probably explains it a little better).  The song suggests that music, in particular live music, serves as a uniting force.  I wholeheartedly agree with this idea; concerts provide an opportunity to leave behind the stress of our everyday lives and join a bunch of strangers for a night of music we all love.  I’m a fairly friendly guy, but I’m much more likely to strike up a conversation with a stranger at a concert than I am in the supermarket.  Even if we have similarities in both instances (“oh, you like peanut butter too?”), there seems to be a more immediate and natural connection with strangers with music as a common ground.  Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy has compared live music to religious services in a number of interviews, and undoubtedly he’s talking about the communal aspect of these shows – how a group of people can put everything else aside for an evening to “join together” with everyone else.

So I’m on board with the song’s main idea, but I’m not as quick to buy the first line in the last verse - “It’s the singer not the song / that makes the music move along.”  In the context of Townshend’s Lifehouse, the band is the essential uniting force.  However, taking “Join Together” as a mission statement makes accepting this line a bit tougher for me.  Over the last six months, I’ve been looking at individual songs and tried to figure out what makes them tick (or, at least, why I like them).  Occasionally, I slip into a tangential story, but I try to return back to the song.  Yes, I’ve talked a lot about specific performances or interpretations, and I agree that sometimes a song becomes better with the right performer behind it – it’s hard to doubt that certain people “own” certain songs, whether they wrote them or they’re covering them.  I’d also like to think that the opposite is true – that certain songs (to a degree) transcend performance.  Of course, it’s possible to butcher even the best songs, but some songs don’t need a specific performer’s gift in order to fulfill it’s potential.  Perhaps it’s just the right chords or the right melody sequence.  Maybe it’s the song’s ability to tap into something about our shared human existence.  Regardless, just as there are performers that make certain songs sound better, there are certain songs that transcend their singers.  If the singer makes the music move along, the song is the essential roadmap – and without a set of directions, the singer’s going nowhere.

More on The Who: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” – Elton John
(Words/music: Elton John and Bernie Taupin, available on Honky Chateau, Uni / MCA 1972)

“Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” was always one of my favorite Elton John songs in part because it speaks to a very specific part of my personality.  Every so often – either when I have a deadline approaching and I’m woefully behind or just when I’m overloaded in general – I shutdown and ignore the outside world.  While this might be my body’s way of telling me to stay home and get caught up, I’m rarely productive when I’m in this mood.  Instead, I lose motivation for anything – getting work done, making plans, or doing anything generally active.  These are the moments that I feel very lonely, and because I’m stressed out, my brain shuts off the logical solution; I know that I need to get off the couch, but I lack any willpower to do it.  Eventually, I snap out of it and feel better and deal with whatever caused the stress in the first place, and often it’s spurred on by some innocuous act from someone else. I’m usually too tired to accept plans, so these are usually subtle, unintended acts or correspondences.  These are the moments where I simultaneously accept that I need these solitary moments, if for no other reason than to appreciate my friends.

Both musically and lyrically, “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” focuses on the necessary details.  John holds off on the sappy strings that make some of his other ballads a little too sentimental for my taste.  Instead, he relies on piano and electric bass for most of the song (and I’m surprised I haven’t heard more of this combination), only occasionally indulging in a couple excellent guitar fills and backing harmonies (and an amazing mandolin bit that Club Rob reminded me about and I was foolish to overlook).  With this minimal arrangement, Bernie Taupin’s lyrics seem scaled back as well, consisting of a few key descriptions of the protagonist’s experiences in the city, explicit thanks to his friends, and his description of the people he sees caught in the rat race.  We often think of John as a model of excess (specifically for his lavish stage costumes later in his career), but songs like “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” show how John achieves success with the bare essentials – relying on beautifully simple songs to connect with his audience.  Also, it’s a reminder of the balance many of us struggle with – we want to work hard and be successful, and sometimes it wears us down to exhaustion.  However, without our supporting core there to help bring perspective, we’re liable to lose entire days with our heads focused down.  Just as John and Taupin took a moment to step back and appreciate simplicity, we need to take time and appreciate those who keep us sane when the rest of the world feels like it’s moving too fast.

More on Elton John: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“I Won’t Back Down” - Tom Petty
(Words/music: Jeff Lynne and Tom Petty, available on Full Moon Fever, MCA 1989)

A few years ago, I came across a book titled Lit Riffs.  The concept was simple – writers composing short pieces of fiction based on a song.  As with any anthology, some of the entries were good (specifically, I remember a dark one about a Vietnam veteran based on Pearl Jam’s “Why Go”) and some were disappointing.  Still, the one that stuck with me the most was based on “I Won’t Back Down,” turning the song’s plaintive declaration of perseverance into a story of schoolyard bullying.  The song seemed more like words of advise to the protagonist (I gave away my copy of the book, so I can’t reread the story, sorry) than a mantra, as the main character struggles with his quarrelsome peer.  It wasn’t a trailblazing work of fiction, but it made me think about Tom Petty’s song again.

“I Won’t Back Down” works so well because of what Tom Petty leaves out of the song.  It doesn’t reach the same vocally intense (read: emotional) moments that “Free Fallin’,” the previous song on Full Moon Fever reaches, nor does it have the same driving force as my personal favorite “Runnin’ Down a Dream.”  Instead, Petty calmly declares that he’s willing to stand up for his beliefs.  In a strange way, this reminds me of the calm and passive courage Atticus Finch displays in To Kill a Mockingbird – he doesn’t advertise that he’s a terrific attorney or a world-class sharpshooter – he only flexes his muscle when necessary.  Petty’s song lays itself out in a similar way – it sets a steady, constant tempo and refuses to fluctuate.  There’s some great slide guitar but no full blown solo, just a couple well-placed fills.  Even when Petty’s vocals climb up towards the top of his register, he’s just taking the high part of an ensemble vocal rather than showing off.  This isn’t our former President threatening to “smoke ‘em out,” but rather a firm yet calm statement of resolve and conviction.  It’s the kind of sentiment that more of us should take a cue from.

When Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played last year’s Super Bowl halftime, I worried that the set would be kind of boring.  Instead, I was pleasantly surprised that his set contained two of my favorites - “Runnin’ Down a Dream” and “I Won’t Back Down.”  In particular, the latter seemed appropriate for the occasion, as the Giants refused to buckle against New England’s juggernaut.  After the game, I called Eli Manning’s performance the “physical manifestation” of this song, and a year later it seems fitting.  Manning didn’t win the game with a record statistical evening (in the same way that Petty’s song doesn’t overload on effects or gimmicks).  Instead, his steady, consistent play (and a moment of luck eluding the Pats’ defense on the Tyree miracle catch) provided the foundation for his team’s victory.  If nothing else, it gave me a great premise to write about the game the next day!

More on Tom Petty: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm