Shuffle-Bored

You know what? I feel like I've spent a lot of time telling stories throughout my last four blog posts on Classic Brian. All week, I struggled coming up with ideas for noteworthy blog posts, and if I did happen to come across something rather interesting, I just couldn't muster up the gumption to go ahead and write and elaborate lengthily on it. So this week I'm going to take a break from storytelling and be the first participant in Conor's nerve-wracking feature: Project Desperation. Who knows what will come up in the first seven songs on my shuffle? I have a 160-gigabyte video iPod, so that means I put full albums on there without hesitation. WHAT IF SOMETHING I'VE NEVER LISTENED TO POPS UP? Relax, it'll be a musically-educational and (for me) an aurally-pleasing adventure.

Alright, here we go!

One. "Sentimental Guy" - Ben Folds

Oh snap. This is slightly embarrassing. I pretend to be a bigger Ben Folds fan than I truly am. This is honestly the only album (Songs For Silverman) of his I have, unfortunately. It's a shame because of all the songs I've heard of his, I've grown to really appreciate and love his style. Alas, I've haven't had the energy to focus on his albums as a whole. But okay, in regards to "Sentimental Guy," I really like this song. It's got that kind of rainy-day feel to it, you know? where it's sort of jazzy and slow-to-medium-paced. The truth is, Ben Folds could carry every single one of his songs on his own- just piano and vocals- and the song would probably be just as powerful as it is with a backing band, if not more so. However, the reason I think this song benefits from having that backing back is because the inclusion of a French Horn (what a fabulous, albeit underrated instrument) evenly matches his voice at one point and reflects the melancholy of the lyrics. Basically, he talks about how after this one person he was close to "drifted far away," bits and pieces of the nonverbal facets of that person's personality, the "the left unsaid," come out in his interactions with others today, causing him to be more sentimental than he wants to admit, but not towards anyone else since his old friend's departure. I like this a lot because I'm an incredibly sentimental guy who gets bogged down by even the most insignificant circumstances and mannerisms- the way the sun shone on a particular morning, the way someone told a joke. It's ironic that Folds says, "I used to be a sentimental guy," because he's getting sentimental about being sentimental! And when he says, "I don't miss anyone," I get the feeling that he's trying to cover up his real emotions as he tells us his story: as Holden Caulfield so expertly puts it: "Don't ever tell anyone anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."

Two. "Hungry For Your Love" - Van Morrison

This really shouldn't be on my iPod. My Dad wanted me to put the title song from the album Wavelength on his iPod, and being a fan of Van Morrison, I decided to throw it on mine too (I have the room, why not?). Truth be told, I haven't given it a full listen, mostly because I don't really care for that period of Morrison's career. I'm all about, obviously, the favorites, Blowin' Your Mind! and Astral Weeks, as well as some of his later material (2008's Keep It Simple is surprisingly good for an aging artist). But upon further listening to this one song here, I guess it's not so bad. What I really like about this song, and about Morrison in general, is that although his lyrics may be fairly simple and straightforward("I'm hungry for your love/ I'm hungry for your love/ I'm hungry for your love....), you can really get a genuine feel of what he's saying through the way he sings those lyrics. He's got this guttural, brilliantly-bluesy, Irish way of spitting out the verses, like he's actually experiencing whatever it is he's singing about. "I got such a lot of love/ I wanna give it to ya," he passionately repeats. Who hasn't felt like that? So desperate to get someone to comprehend how much love you have, you just want to bellow to them. Actually, this song is awesome...

Three. "Ramona" - The Ramones

Talk about simplicity of lyrics. The Ramones cornered that market. But it's like it doesn't matter, they're so frenetic and fun and full of energy. I used to be "That Guy" with "Blitzkrieg Bop" and "I Wanna Be Sedated" on my mp3 player. But a good buddy of mine began to FINALLY expand his music tastes past rap a couple years ago. Lucky for me, he started listening to a genre I hadn't previously given much thought to: punk. While I don't dig most of punk, I kind of like its pioneers, mostly just The Ramones. My friend encouraged me, if I was interested in them, to get a copy of their two-disc Best-Of anthology, so I did. Half the songs are called "I Wanna..." or "I Don't Wanna..." and they're each, like, a minute and a half long. But they're all really good, and some deeper than some critics might give The Ramones credit for. "Ramona" is yet another song about meeting a girl and getting it on with her, and then "wanting to die." What I like about the song is it's first stanza, which varies a bit from the rest of the song. It name-drops each one of The Ramones and breaks that fourth wall by calling out to the crowd about liking their music loud, which gives the song more of a concert-type feel. That's when it introduces Ramona, who must be one of the #1 Fans, who "always wants to come over." Good stuff.

Four. "All Day Day Light" - The Morning Benders

HAHA! I win! Okay, this is one I can really write about. Since I saw them the second morning at Lollapalooza, I've been falling madly in love with The Morning Benders. They played for only thirty minutes, but it was probably thirty of the most solid minutes of Lollapalooza. These guys range from twenty to twenty-five years old, but they're incredible. They have this awesome "California dream-pop" sound that sometimes borders on Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys. It's so dreamy, so ambient, making me better feeling. Anyway, this song's not really dreamy, but it's a good example of some of their louder, more energetic songs, and it's good enough to warrant a music video. It's really catchy, complete with some rhythmic hand-clapping that serves as a vehicle by which the listener can properly join in on the fun. The refrain starts each line with "Somewhere someone's...," giving it this repeated alliteration, a smoother vibe, you know? They just sort of smoothly sail through the song. Did I mention Peter Racine and I met The Morning Benders?

Four. "Destination Motherland" - Roy Ayers

Ah! Now see, this is what I was talking about. Something I don't listen to. My dad rides the bus with this one guy that lives in my neighborhood who, as it happens, is this huge Bob Dylan fan. So naturally, we're friends now, and from time to time, we'll exchange music. He's really eclectic, so he's given me some strange music- not necessarily bad- just different. This is an example. I humbly obliged his wishes that I listen to his Best of Roy Ayers CD, who seems to be this Afro-centered musician, and put the CD on my iPod, but never really gave it a proper listen. I think I heard, like, one song and decided I didn't really want to listen to a whole album with that kind of vibe. I pun on vibe here because Ayers is an expert vibraphone player. His song titles are all sort of mystical and some seem to revolve around Africa, as in "Motherland." Plus on the cover, he's wearing what appears to be traditional African garb. there's not much to say about the song. It's a four-and-a-half minute voyage to the Motherland, with vibraphone tinkling, bass thumping and funk prevailing throughout. I imagine this sort of music would be better appreciated live, where you can watch Ayers skillfully pounding that vibraphone and feel a little groovier.

Five. "A Worried Man" - The Kingston Trio

Oh, man, The Kingston Trio is incredible. I decided a couple years back after I was introduced to Bob Dylan (you have two more chances, man, can you please make an appearance?) that I was a fan of folk. Therefore, I picked up some Kingston Trio, some Peter, Paul & Mary, more Dylan, and so on and so forth 'cause I'm a fan of folk and I like popular 60's folk artists and I like folk. My friend's dad, the biggest music buff I know, indulged me by contributing to my collection his four-CD compendium of Kingston Trio hits, a sixty-dollar collection at Recycled Records! It's a beautiful compilation, with all their best songs recorded in the studio and in concert. One of these excellent songs is the comedic and poppy "A Worried Man." It's a banjo-fueled story about this fortunate guy who's got everything- a Cadillac, a lucrative traveling job and a sexy wife named Sue, the "prettiest gal in town." Let's reexamine that: he has a traveling job...and his wife is the town's prettiest dame...."Holy ghost!" this guy's thinking after a stanza of bragging, comforted that he'll be home tonight to ensure his wife's faithfulness. In the third and last stanza he tells us, from his position in the closet, what everyone in the house is up to sexually, exclaiming, "We're worried now, but we won't be worried long!" This is some classic Kingston Trio, incurring in me sun-scorched memories of quiet, cross-country filled summer mornings.

Six. "A Summer Song" - Chad & Jeremy

When this song starts off with that soft acoustic guitar, I always think it's the intro to Carrie & Eddie's acoustic version of The Black Keys' "Set You Free," maybe you've heard of it. Anyway, this is another great song about nostalgia, the best and worst theme to write music to. "A Summer Song" is a soft, peaceful, harmony-driven ditty that transcends all seasons. Despite its title, I can easily imagine myself listening to this song "when the rain beats against my window pane" or when summer's officially over, as school sets in and "autumn leaves must fall." Chad & Jeremy serenade with guitars and horns some lucky lady here about how much they (collectively he) miss those unattainable, carefree "soft kisses on a summer's day." Now this is a theme found in just about all of us. Perhaps we don't all have a past lover that we miss spending time with, but after completing that first math assignment of the school year, haven't we all reminisced heavily about the carefree days of summer? Am I the only one who feels physically pained when I mull heavily over days of yore? This is a song to listen to RIGHT NOW!!

Seven. "The Mistress Witch From McMlure (Or The Mind That Knows Itself) - Sufjan Stevens

Oh! Perfect! What a perfect ending to this post! This song is taken from an album of outtakes and alternate takes from Sufjan Stevens' Illinois album, titled The Avalanche. Now, before this blog post, I had never paid proper attention to the lyrics of this song. Holy smoke. It's pretty wild, but beautiful. Essentially it's yet another heavily banjo-oriented song about Sufjan and his brother discovering that their father is having an affair with another woman. Its sound is sort of similar to that of "Casimir Puilski Day," what with it starting out with a banjo, acoustic guitar and Sufjan's voice, ultimately leading up to the inclusion of brass, more strings and harmonizing backing vocals. From some of this research I've compiled, I found this interesting conversation between Sufjan and a Pitchfork interviewer:

Sufjan: ..."The Mistress Witch of McClure" song is based on some...[pause] experiences that I had.

Pitchfork: Would you care to elaborate on that at all?

Sufjan: Probably not, it might be a little incriminating. [laughs]

Whoa. Perhaps the song is rooted in fact? That's a bummer. Who wants to walk in on their father's mistress chained to the floor, causing their father to furiously chase them while their brother has a fit in the snow? This song, despite its racy, provocative lyrics, retains a level of lightheartedness. It's fairly fast paced, yet beautifully and almost sorrowfully delivered, and ends with presumably Sufjan laughing as the sound fades. I guess I can think of a couple reasons why it wouldn't mesh well with the other songs on Illinois, but thank God Sufjan decided to make an outtake album because "The Mistress Witch" is tight.

So there you go. I hope at the very least you can listen to these songs yourselves and interpret them in your own way. I've offered explanations as to why they appeal to me, or simply why they're on my iPod, but hopefully you can get a kick out of them. It's always fun to vary your tastes, expand your musical horizons, try new things. I've surprisingly inspired myself to listen seriously to a lot of music I've previously neglected or rejected on my iPod.

But I don't even like listening to my iPod right now because it's starting to betray its age. For some reason, a lot of the songs display album artwork for another album, although they appear correct on my iTunes when I plug the iPod into the computer. Whatever. Irrelevant. Go listen to some music.