Get ready, because this song is just ADORABLE.
The song: The Shirelles, "Everybody Loves A Lover"; 1962
So adorable in fact that I put it on a mix CD I made a few months back for a friend's birthday. (She was turning one. It seemed momentous enough for a mix CD.) And because this friend happens to be what most people would call "a baby", I wanted the songs on this mix CD to be only the sweetest and best I could find.
I can't remember what all I put on there but I know it had Paul Simon's "Loves Me Like A Rock", Jackson 5 "I Want You Back", Miriam Makeba "Pata Pata", and Jackson Browne "Somebody's Baby" (I couldn't resist).
In any case, I can highly recommend any of the above songs if you find yourself in an ebullient mood now or at some point in the future.
*
(Previous Shirelles: "Will You Love Me Tomorrow"; I also discovered this Bryan Ferry cover of that song recently [and it's good!])
And "Everybody Loves A Lover" is in fact ebullient, perhaps as ebullient as it gets. I just love the phrasing of "I should worry, doo be doo be do, not for nothing, doo be doo be do" for its unique blend of early 60s un-self-consciousness and what one might term "Yiddishkeit". Which is the ineffable essence of what makes a Jewish thing Jewish, which is something I have had cause to think about a fair few times over the course of my life. I don't know my own personal answer but I am pretty sure it has something to do with having expressive eyebrows. (All jokes aside, "Everybody Loves A Lover" was written by the Jewish lyricist Richard Adler, known mostly for his work in musicals.)
The Shirelles cover is actually a re-work of an original by Doris Day, which is also pretty snazzy in a much different way.
But I find the Shirelles version just killer. Only the sweetest and the best.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
And It Could Work For You: "Something Good Can Work"
Here's a nice summery song that will make you want to participate in a montage of fun activities with a group of attractive people:
The song: Two Door Cinema Club, "Something Good Can Work"; 2011
*
I am still on this kick of songs about happiness, because I am beginning to put together my own theory of happiness.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to make a theory about everything before I can truly accept it, but this is the way my mind works. It hurts sometimes because it never shuts itself down -- my mind, that is. But I've learned I've just got to keep feeding it things to think about so it doesn't turn on itself.
In fact, keeping my mind from turning on itself is one of my main occupations.
I was born with a very heavy genetic predisposition toward mental illness. I don't talk about this much because I don't like to. But a genetic predisposition is a genetic predisposition, and a life is a life, and mine has made me into a person who can be obsessive, moody, impulsive, despairing, and/or nervous in turns.
My brain is my best friend and my worst enemy.
In my life I spend a lot of time thinking about things that seem like they don't bear that much thinking about. Like popular music, and Dancing with the Stars, and why there are so many flavors of gum right now. (Seriously though, why?)
Happiness is one of those things, but only for people who know what it is instinctively. Just like mainstream culture is not worth thinking about for those who have never felt themselves to be alienated from it.
I don't know what happiness is, or at least I haven't known it. That's not to say I've never been happy in my life: I've been white-water rafting, and played Risk, and gone to the mall with friends -- I've had good experiences and relief from the darker sides of life, certainly. But I wouldn't call my past self a happy person, in the sense of being able to fall asleep knowing I would be happy again in the morning.
I think this is because happiness is like any other meaningful pursuit, and it takes time and a level of self-knowledge to create. But happiness is among the more challenging of meaningful pursuits, not only because it is so ineffable but because humans seem to be willing to accept a base level of unhappiness as their punishment for being alive. That's a big statement I know, but I also know I can't be the only person who has ever thought something like "man this chair is REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE but eh, it'd be too much work to move."
So I hope you'll bear with me as I try to work this out, and I hope you'll occasionally find something of worth for yourself in the various thoughts I share about this issue. I just want to say, more to myself than anything but also to you: I know it seems like happiness should be self-evident, and I know it seems like there's something wrong with you when it's not. But that's the beginning of the theory, not its end, and something good can work.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
The song: Two Door Cinema Club, "Something Good Can Work"; 2011
*
I am still on this kick of songs about happiness, because I am beginning to put together my own theory of happiness.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to make a theory about everything before I can truly accept it, but this is the way my mind works. It hurts sometimes because it never shuts itself down -- my mind, that is. But I've learned I've just got to keep feeding it things to think about so it doesn't turn on itself.
In fact, keeping my mind from turning on itself is one of my main occupations.
I was born with a very heavy genetic predisposition toward mental illness. I don't talk about this much because I don't like to. But a genetic predisposition is a genetic predisposition, and a life is a life, and mine has made me into a person who can be obsessive, moody, impulsive, despairing, and/or nervous in turns.
My brain is my best friend and my worst enemy.
In my life I spend a lot of time thinking about things that seem like they don't bear that much thinking about. Like popular music, and Dancing with the Stars, and why there are so many flavors of gum right now. (Seriously though, why?)
Happiness is one of those things, but only for people who know what it is instinctively. Just like mainstream culture is not worth thinking about for those who have never felt themselves to be alienated from it.
I don't know what happiness is, or at least I haven't known it. That's not to say I've never been happy in my life: I've been white-water rafting, and played Risk, and gone to the mall with friends -- I've had good experiences and relief from the darker sides of life, certainly. But I wouldn't call my past self a happy person, in the sense of being able to fall asleep knowing I would be happy again in the morning.
I think this is because happiness is like any other meaningful pursuit, and it takes time and a level of self-knowledge to create. But happiness is among the more challenging of meaningful pursuits, not only because it is so ineffable but because humans seem to be willing to accept a base level of unhappiness as their punishment for being alive. That's a big statement I know, but I also know I can't be the only person who has ever thought something like "man this chair is REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE but eh, it'd be too much work to move."
So I hope you'll bear with me as I try to work this out, and I hope you'll occasionally find something of worth for yourself in the various thoughts I share about this issue. I just want to say, more to myself than anything but also to you: I know it seems like happiness should be self-evident, and I know it seems like there's something wrong with you when it's not. But that's the beginning of the theory, not its end, and something good can work.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Friday, May 17, 2013
Once I Figured It Out You Were Right Here All Along: Modern Love
Usually I would just link to the entry where I said this, but for the first time in my life I am feeling the urge to quote myself and I kind of want to ride this wave into shore.
"1. There are two schools of thought in this world: "People are stupid. So if a lot of them like something, it must be stupid."; and "People are stupid, but if a lot of them like something, it could actually just be SO good that it penetrated the stupidness of people."
Because, yes, people are stupid and never more so than when considered in large groups. BUT people are also innately musical AS A SPECIES and programmed to love love AS A SPECIES, so it's not like even large groups of people can't recognize a good pop song (which is nothing simpler and nothing more complicated than a piece of art appealing to those two qualities of people).
2. Yes, pop music uses a lot of computers. Sometimes in ways that are stupid. But ALSO sometimes in ways that actually enhance the overall sound of the song.
and FURTHERMORE, it's not like someone has invented a Pop Music Song Creating Program.
It's still all humans, all human thoughts and human words and human tastes when it comes down to it. We use tools! And a computer is a REALLY GREAT TOOL.
So for every song that comes on the radio that makes you want to roll the windows down and turn it UP
there was a human in a studio somewhere who felt that feeling too and was smart enough to recognize it for what it was.
and god damn it aren't we all brothers and sisters????????????????"
It can be easy.
"1. There are two schools of thought in this world: "People are stupid. So if a lot of them like something, it must be stupid."; and "People are stupid, but if a lot of them like something, it could actually just be SO good that it penetrated the stupidness of people."
Because, yes, people are stupid and never more so than when considered in large groups. BUT people are also innately musical AS A SPECIES and programmed to love love AS A SPECIES, so it's not like even large groups of people can't recognize a good pop song (which is nothing simpler and nothing more complicated than a piece of art appealing to those two qualities of people).
2. Yes, pop music uses a lot of computers. Sometimes in ways that are stupid. But ALSO sometimes in ways that actually enhance the overall sound of the song.
and FURTHERMORE, it's not like someone has invented a Pop Music Song Creating Program.
It's still all humans, all human thoughts and human words and human tastes when it comes down to it. We use tools! And a computer is a REALLY GREAT TOOL.
So for every song that comes on the radio that makes you want to roll the windows down and turn it UP
there was a human in a studio somewhere who felt that feeling too and was smart enough to recognize it for what it was.
and god damn it aren't we all brothers and sisters????????????????"
*
So here's a song that you have a one in five chance of hearing with ten seconds of turning on a radio:
The song: Justin Timberlake, "Mirrors"; 2013
I think this song is amazing. I even love the more conceptual coda, and I am usually very much NOT into "more-conceptual codas".
"Mirrors" is a great example of the neo-funk sound that's really coming back (notably with Daft Punk's "Get Lucky", Chris Brown's "Fine China" [which I won't link to because I am trying to lose my crush on it because Chris Brown is truly a reprehensible person], and Justin Timberlake's own "Suit and Tie" [I usually would shy away from Speaking For My Generation, but on this issue I can say with confidence that Jay-Z's involvement in this song does not make it better]).
My feelings about this neo-funk trend are 100% great, but what I think is even more encouraging is that "Mirrors" is a positive song. It's calm, and happy, and it describes a relationship that is stable.
I've written before about the fetishization of pain in popular music, particularly as it relates to romance. But seriously, life and love do NOT have to be painful to be meaningful. In fact, can we agree that it's much easier to live a meaningful life when you can focus on things other than yourself?
Like music, and dancing, and food, and interesting nonfiction, and pictures of baby exotic mammals, and sharing good experiences with good people.
It can be easy.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Because You Made Me A Winner With Your: "Sweet Understanding Love"
I can only ever realize in retrospect how much the music I showcase on this blog (and on my radio show, more on that later) reflects my mood.
It usually takes someone saying something like, "man, all the songs you played just now were really sad," to make me even think about music in terms of "sadness" or "happiness" because strangely enough that's just not how I think of it.
Maybe it's because I myself tend to be a bit melancholy when left unchecked, or maybe I find sadness more interesting than happiness because what I am really looking for is honesty.
I've written before about the Four Tops (also here) and how Levi Stubbs is, to me, a shining example of something rare: a person who is nice, and happy, and creative, and successful.
That is what I want. I know it's a lot to want. But that's what ambition is.
*
I've also written before about my radio show, which is broadcast on WCBN at 88.3fm or wcbn.org.
For the past year it's been late at night, and I've grown really used to it that way. It was not always -- or even often -- easy to leave my house at eleven or midnight on twenty-degree nights to walk a mile (uphill both ways, kids) to the radio station.
But every time I did it, every time I pulled up off the couch and put on a sweater and filled the pockets of my coat with trail mix, I'd think to myself, "this is what ambition is."
*
Now my radio show will be on at a time when most people can actually listen to it if they wish: 9am-11am Eastern Daylight Time, on Wednesday mornings.
And now I want to share a happy song.
The song: The Four Tops, "Sweet Understanding Love"; 1973
There are many things to love about this song, but one of my favorites is when they start spelling out L-O-V-E (I mean, who does not love that) but it's all these ridiculously long phrases like, spoiler alert, "O is for the only love I've ever known, given to me by you" and "V is for the value of our priceless understanding".
Ah, well. It's not very smooth. But when is it ever?
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
It usually takes someone saying something like, "man, all the songs you played just now were really sad," to make me even think about music in terms of "sadness" or "happiness" because strangely enough that's just not how I think of it.
Maybe it's because I myself tend to be a bit melancholy when left unchecked, or maybe I find sadness more interesting than happiness because what I am really looking for is honesty.
I've written before about the Four Tops (also here) and how Levi Stubbs is, to me, a shining example of something rare: a person who is nice, and happy, and creative, and successful.
That is what I want. I know it's a lot to want. But that's what ambition is.
*
I've also written before about my radio show, which is broadcast on WCBN at 88.3fm or wcbn.org.
For the past year it's been late at night, and I've grown really used to it that way. It was not always -- or even often -- easy to leave my house at eleven or midnight on twenty-degree nights to walk a mile (uphill both ways, kids) to the radio station.
But every time I did it, every time I pulled up off the couch and put on a sweater and filled the pockets of my coat with trail mix, I'd think to myself, "this is what ambition is."
*
Now my radio show will be on at a time when most people can actually listen to it if they wish: 9am-11am Eastern Daylight Time, on Wednesday mornings.
And now I want to share a happy song.
The song: The Four Tops, "Sweet Understanding Love"; 1973
There are many things to love about this song, but one of my favorites is when they start spelling out L-O-V-E (I mean, who does not love that) but it's all these ridiculously long phrases like, spoiler alert, "O is for the only love I've ever known, given to me by you" and "V is for the value of our priceless understanding".
Ah, well. It's not very smooth. But when is it ever?
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Monday, May 13, 2013
I Think You're Crazy Just Like Me: Formerly Mega-Popular Songs I Think Could Stand A Comeback
The song: Gnarls Barkley, "Crazy"; 2006
The song: Outkast, "Hey Ya"; 2003
The song: Macy Gray, "I Try"; 2000
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
EDIT:
If "Hey Ya!" comes back then it would be only fair:
The song: Outkast, "The Way You Move"; 2006
But only when it's really hot outside.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Here I Am I'm A Man On The Scene: Version v. Version
Previous Version v. Version:
*
The song: Otis Redding, "Hard to Handle"; 1968
The original. Released posthumously.
The song: Patti Drew, "Hard to Handle"; 1968
The first cover.
The song: The Grateful Dead, "Hard to Handle"
Performed live approximately 90 times between March 1969 and August 1971.
The song: The Black Crowes, "Hard to Handle"; 1990
Breakout single for the group; brought the song to a new generation.
*
I usually try to maintain a journalistic sense of distance when I present Versions v. Version (usually not succeeding very well, but oh well).
This one, however, poses two questions that for me personally have very clear answers:
- Are you more into rock or soul? (Or if you want to spell it out, guitar or horns?)
and
- What's more compelling to you, male arrogance or female arrogance?
(So for me it's Patti Drew 4eva. But for you it may be different. That's why I do this.
And also to listen to the same great song four times in a row.)
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
Sunday, May 5, 2013
And Everything Looks Worse In Black and White: "Kodachrome"
As I've said before, I really respect Paul Simon.
He has two gifts where he could have had just one: the ability to write a really catchy pop song, AND the ability to write songs that feel real and touch people's hearts.
This is why I have long thought that if I were to meet a space alien who wanted to learn what humanity was all about, I'd make them listen to Graceland.
(That's also a self-serving desire because, hey, come on, hey, who wouldn't want to say they once listened to Graceland with a space alien?
Right.
I am picturing a Twilight-Zone-style alien here, like one with a mid-range suit and pomade in his hair.
I know this all sounds 100% crazy, but these are just the things I think about when I sit on my couch at night.)
In any case, I have written about Paul Simon before here ("Something So Right") and here ("Graceland", hosted on my friend's blog Mom And Not Mom).
And I'm back to it again.
*
Two interesting facts about this song:
1. The phrase that Paul Simon originally wanted to build a song around was "Going Home", but he replaced it with "Kodachrome" because it was unique and had more possibility.
I find that really fascinating. I know how it is when you start with the shell of an idea and then start writing and realize you've ended up somewhere completely different, but I find the original idea always has at least some resonance with the finished product. So it's interesting to think of the phrase "going home" -- which always sounds poignant to me, for whatever that says about me -- in relationship to this song.
2. The line "and everything looks worse in black and white" was how he sung it in 1973; in 1991 he performed it as "everything looks better in black and white". If that's not an interesting comment on age, the passing of time, and cultural shift, I don't know what is.
Let's listen to it.
The song: Paul Simon, "Kodachrome"; 1971
*
Like many of Paul Simon's songs, this one is a relatively complex metaphor and when I try to unravel it I sometimes confuse myself. I know, however, that it's about memory. This is a subject that means something to me.
Ask me in a week and I'll probably think differently, but what I think right now is that this song is about the ability to create and retain memories without being consumed by them. What I might also call "living life", which sounds glib but I don't mean it to be. Life is uncomfortable. It feels weird and unpleasant a lot of the time, and I think it's easy to try to dodge those feelings with fantasy, or undue nostalgia, or denial.
Joan Didion says, "We tell ourselves stories in order to live. . . We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the 'ideas' with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience."
I think she and Paul are really onto something there.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
He has two gifts where he could have had just one: the ability to write a really catchy pop song, AND the ability to write songs that feel real and touch people's hearts.
This is why I have long thought that if I were to meet a space alien who wanted to learn what humanity was all about, I'd make them listen to Graceland.
(That's also a self-serving desire because, hey, come on, hey, who wouldn't want to say they once listened to Graceland with a space alien?
Right.
I am picturing a Twilight-Zone-style alien here, like one with a mid-range suit and pomade in his hair.
I know this all sounds 100% crazy, but these are just the things I think about when I sit on my couch at night.)
In any case, I have written about Paul Simon before here ("Something So Right") and here ("Graceland", hosted on my friend's blog Mom And Not Mom).
And I'm back to it again.
*
Two interesting facts about this song:
1. The phrase that Paul Simon originally wanted to build a song around was "Going Home", but he replaced it with "Kodachrome" because it was unique and had more possibility.
I find that really fascinating. I know how it is when you start with the shell of an idea and then start writing and realize you've ended up somewhere completely different, but I find the original idea always has at least some resonance with the finished product. So it's interesting to think of the phrase "going home" -- which always sounds poignant to me, for whatever that says about me -- in relationship to this song.
2. The line "and everything looks worse in black and white" was how he sung it in 1973; in 1991 he performed it as "everything looks better in black and white". If that's not an interesting comment on age, the passing of time, and cultural shift, I don't know what is.
Let's listen to it.
The song: Paul Simon, "Kodachrome"; 1971
*
Like many of Paul Simon's songs, this one is a relatively complex metaphor and when I try to unravel it I sometimes confuse myself. I know, however, that it's about memory. This is a subject that means something to me.
Ask me in a week and I'll probably think differently, but what I think right now is that this song is about the ability to create and retain memories without being consumed by them. What I might also call "living life", which sounds glib but I don't mean it to be. Life is uncomfortable. It feels weird and unpleasant a lot of the time, and I think it's easy to try to dodge those feelings with fantasy, or undue nostalgia, or denial.
Joan Didion says, "We tell ourselves stories in order to live. . . We look for the sermon in the suicide, for the social or moral lesson in the murder of five. We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the 'ideas' with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience."
I think she and Paul are really onto something there.
Yrs,
AW
inbedwithamywilson@gmail.com
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