The Fifteenth Annual Jaybee-bies: Well, THAT Sure Sucked

Executive Summary:

2025 was everything we feared it would be, and more.

• Personal: I'm getting over (I hope) an illness.
• Music/Personal: Due to the above, I did the world a huge favor and stopped "playing" guitar for a while. The world took no notice. So I had no choice but to start again. This time with a focus on having fun. You've been warned.
• Music: Per my last post, I'm feeling more alienated than ever from the current music, probably due to thoughts on mortality. Jazz, Blues, and Oldies were great, as usual. Otherwise, I kept looking for the weirdos. Thank god I found some.
• Politics: After a long year, I'm seeing a little bit of daylight. How about you?

Humans:

Best:

• Some judges
• A very few congresspersons
• Janet Mills
• Many, many others who, in my current state, I just can't bring to mind. Feel free to write in your favorites.

Worst:

Some old winners (Tucker Carlson, Megyn Kelly, Jesse Waters) are working extra hard at being awful just to keep up with the new kids:

• All the tech bros with no balls
• All the media outlet owners who really don't give a shit about media
• Elon Musk
• Laura Loomer 
• Nick Fuentes (do I really have to point this out?)
• Neil Gorsuch, Samuel Alito, Clarence Thomas 
• ICE
• Mike Johnson
• Pam Bondi
• Stephen Miller

Best Books:

I managed to read some books this year, none of which changed my life, but many that taught me things, some of which I might have been better off not knowing. I hope it's all made me a better person.

• Peter the Great by Robert Massie - Great Russian history. I see Adam Driver in the title role. 
• The Age of Revolution 1789-1849 by EJ Hobshawm - A tad (or two or three) drier than Massie's book, but it's got such a grasp of the entire era, it's worth it.
• The Killing Fields of East New York by Stacy Horn - History on a much smaller scale. Not to worry, there's still plenty of evil here to go around.
• The Family by Ed Sanders - Just some light reading before tackling Infinite Jest.
• Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion - Even less sixties nostalgia than The Family.
• Small Town Talk by Barney Hoskyns - Even less sixties nostalgia than Bethlehem.
• Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace - I read it on my tiny iPhone SE, which took nearly all summer. And as I did with Gravity's Rainbow, I ended up frustrated, annoyed, and wanting to read it again, maybe this time with a highlighter.
• The Origin of Species by Charles Darwin - Chuck D patiently explains it all to us. Great first line: "Listen up, motherf*ckers."

Best Movies:

• Wake Up, Dead Man
• Okay, Superman

I don't even remember if I saw anything else. I simply have to get out more!

Best TV:

I was stingy with my time this year, so I was reluctant to commit to an entire series. Mike Schur is a safe bet, though:

• A Man on the Inside

I simply must stay in more!

Best Concerts:

Do the 40th anniversary screenings of Stop Making Sense and Clue count? (Answers: Yes and No)

Music Awards:

Most Work (But Worth it): 

   Can

Most Work (And Possibly Not Worth It): 

   Luckily, nothing this year.

Most Surprising (and Not Necessarily in a Good Way): 

   Heartworms

Best Nostalgia:

   Louis in London

Best Artist:

   Cindy Lee

Best Albums of My Year:

1. Cindy Lee: Diamond Jubilee (2024) - A dark time, indelibly stamped by this odd, lonely, beautiful record.
2. Handsome Family: In the Air (2000) - Cindy Lee swapped for Johnny Cash, the cold tundra swapped for the country, where everything is Very Normal. Right.
3. Duke Ellington/Charles Mingus/Max Roach: Money Jungle (1962) - Seemingly effortless group creation on the fly.
4. CMAT: EURO-COUNTRY (2025) - Containing great tunes, great singing, and sheer gusto.
5. Lester Young with the Oscar Peterson Trio (1952) - Improvisational genius improvising away, accompanied by a crack trio, none of whom are exactly slouches either.
6. Hurray for the Riff Raff: The Past is Still Alive (2024) - This simple, straightforward country rock album patiently waited for me to catch up to it. I feel so dumb!
7. John Coltrane: Crescent (2024) My Coltrane sweetspot appears to be just before he takes off for the stratosphere. An excellent intro to his work.
8. Geese: Getting Killed (2025) This one gets extra credit for conceptual integrity.
9. Adrienne Lenker: Bright Future (2024) - Oh so fragile and yet it outlasted other, more "muscular" records.
10. Otis Redding: Dictionary of Soul (1966) - Of all his not-quite-great albums, this one is probably the best.

Honorable Mention: The Pretty Things, Oklou, The Housmartins, Waxahatchee, Iggy, Dijon, and Louis Armstrong

Best Compilations:

1. Slim Harpo: The Best of...

2. Big Joe Turner: The Very Best of... 

3. Little Richard: The Georgia Peach

The Album I Listened To Most but Had the Least to Say About It Due to Density (Mine, not the music's.):

 Boards of Canada: Music Has the Right to Children

Songs:

• Some of the best songs I heard this year can be found here. It's a weirdly folk/country/hard rock hybrid. Good luck!
• And since Cindy Lee is not on Spotify, here's a link to hear the entire album. I recommend you play it really early, or really late:

Conclusions:

I've been listening differently this year. Circumstances persuaded me to look to the past in hopes of finding something timeless. So I took my eye off the new and the shiny. A well rounded person would do both.

So then, how could you, dear reader, gain any useful knowledge about this year? You're busy, you want to have fun. Why am I dragging you to the old abandoned mine shafts? It's always been the conundrum of my approach. 

The other issue is ranking some new records against many that have stood the test of time. It's almost as though the new music doesn't belong on the list at all. But I'd rather think of it as how I feel about these records right now as opposed to for all eternity.

And yet, on Bluesky, I'm seeing more and more folks mixing the old and the new on their lists of books and records in the name of describing the year they had. As the inventor of this approach, I approve.

The circumstances I mentioned above pulled me away from playing guitar for a while. Time was looking more and more limited, and I decided listening to actual pros was a better use of it than playing mediocrely (yes, I just made that word up). I fight the same war on the reading/writing front. Why write a word when there are so many great books to read? I don't know, but I will anyway.

I eventually drifted back to theh guitar, ignoring the voice asking me what the point was to trying to get better at this point. Then Son Michael bought me a new guitar - a nice electric one I really have no business playing. But Mike said I had a rough year and should "have some fun", whatever that is.

On the real-life front, I've gotten past my horror, or at least compartmentalized it. Elvis C was wrong, you know. One can be disgusted by events, but given how many people get hurt, there's never a justification for feeling merely amused.

Have a great new year anyway.

Ziggy Pop / Iggy Stardust

 

I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center. Big, undreamed‑of things—the people on the edge see them first.

Kurt Vonnegut

Nothing like a quote from a respected author to defend someone who went over the edge on Day 1, huh?

Ziggy:

You have to hand it to David Bowie. He was always willing to dive into the maelstrom. He'd barely finished Ziggy Stardust when he decided to produce Mott the Hoople's All the Young Dudes, and then Lou Reed's Transformer. Reed could send the most dedicated musician to a Buddhist monastery for life, and so during the recording, Bowie could usually be found in a fetal position under the bathroom sink.

After Reed, he decided to deal with a more stable individual and befriended Iggy Pop to produce Raw Power, to no one's satisfaction. 

Bowie also somehow got around to recording his own Alladin Sane.

All this in about a year. Coffee, I suspect.

Iggy:

Iggy himself had made his mark amongst pre-punks with his first few records with the Stooges. But there's only so many times you can threaten (and only partially pull off) the apocalypse before people start to call your bluff. (See his mid-70s humiliation in Please Kill Me.) Plus, square people like me were never going to embrace him, anyway. 

It took until I saw Trainspotting, and the Sex Pistols' choice to self-immolate to "No Fun", to understand his rabid following. My personal Iggy collection starts with a best-of from 1995, which covers most of the essentials. I then moved on to the Stooges' second and third albums - Fun House and Raw Power (the remixed - i.e., non-Bowie - version) - and finally got it - the almost idiotically simple music, sung by a seeming psychotic who nonetheless managed to keep a cool distance from it all, and dropping the mask occasionally to show he knew exactly what he was doing.

To my ears, I hear a movement - from the flat lo-fi growl of "I Wanna Be Your Dog"  (one must have aspirations, after all) and "No Fun" (even if those aspirations aren't met), to the sharper bark of Fun House and then to the full-fledged yowl of Raw Power - towards a fuller, clearer sound of very primitive music. 

So what do you do next? Do you soften the music and risk selling out, but at least benefit from royalties as you approach middle age? Or do you try something new? Something's gotta give. So by 1976, Iggy was going through some tough times and had some decisions to make.

Z/Iggy:

Bowie came to the rescue, revived Pop's career,  and, possibly, his art-if-you-wanna-call-it-that-and-I-do, at least temporarily. 

And wouldn't you know, Bowie wrote most of the music for these two records! He very shrewdly left the lyrics to Iggy, knowing the man would have to have the last word on his own image.

He also played uncredited piano on Iggy's supporting tour while also releasing two great solo records of his own - Low and Heroes.) Another busy Bowie year. That's some pretty strong coffee!

Iggy Pop: The Idiot (1977)

Ah, it's great to hear Iggy in these tuneful settings. I can just hear Bowie saying to him, You know, Iggy dear, every song doesn't have to be an apocalypse. Not being an Iggy fanatic, I'm fine with this approach.

The band is (relatively) restrained, which lets Iggy's voice take center stage. With the Stooges, his voice would be fighting with (and occasionally beating) the band. Here, things are more harmonious. The band leaves some space, which Iggy fills with a suave croon. Let's thank Bowie for this.

It's also a relief to hear Iggy the Showman instead of Iggy the Raving Lunatic (which was kind of an act, anyway.)

I give this one the edge because of the last cut being better.

A-

Iggy Pop: Lust for Life (1977)

Released later that same year, it's Iggy saying, Don't worry, I'm still Iggy. Yet it's different in some critical ways. The title track - one of the greatest rock n' roll songs ever - ISN'T loud and raucous enough to send normies (like me) out of the room. It does have those enormous drums kicking things off, which should draw anyone in. And if you want to really be hit by the full force of it, watch the opening scene from Trainspotting. A true statement of purpose.

There are still the screams that remind you of the old Iggy, but this time, he's actually interested in a bigger audience. And it makes all the difference for better or worse, depending on how you like your Iggy. Clearer and punchier, but also safer. (I'm beginning to really love those earlier albums. I guess sometimes I'm looking forward to the apocalypse after all.)

And yet, that triptych of "The Passenger", "Tonight", and "Success" conveys a kind of joy. Rare.

A-

Ziggy-less:

And like with Lou Reed, it turned out great, but was really just a holding pattern.

Neither Iggy nor Bowie realized that they had only a few more years of vital music left in them. And now Bowie's gone altogether.

But these two records are great places to get the essence of Iggy without the broken peanut butter jars and such.

It's been 30 years since that best-of came out, and while Iggy's been keeping busy putting out record after record, I'm not up on any of them. I suspect by now I've got all the Iggy I'll ever need.

That's okay. He continues to thrill audiences in concert, which, I hear, is where most apocalypses take place these days.

Secret History: The Velvet Underground

I was just going to just jump into 1967 when I decided that the Velvet Underground deserved their own post.  If ever there was a band that represented the secret history, it’s them.

No band better defines the division between what many people call classic rock, and what has always been looked upon as “alternative” music.  Call it punk, glitter, whatever. 

It was the music most of us hated.  It was just too damned weird.

The sixties made things easy for us.  For a time (1964-69) AM radio was a place where good music and popular music were synonymous.  We had FM for what we considered the more adventurous music, and when Sgt. Pepper came along, everyone was an artiste.  All of these factors conspired to make us think we’d explored all there was to explore.  It made us lazy. 

But even then, there was an “alternative” universe being created, thankfully before the window of opportunity collapsed.  It avoided the trap of taking itself too seriously, and it stayed rock and roll based, not trying to use classical music motifs.  Perhaps as a result, it didn’t get played on the radio.

Why not?  Because whatever people say about missing the sixties, I think most were secretly relieved when they was over.  They couldn’t wait for things to get back to normal.  Check out what songs became hits on AM radio in 1970, and compare that to just the year before.  (No, you do it.  I’m busy.) 

And FM?  Well, if anything, the increasing crap on AM only made it more attractive.  But as people get older, they want to be taken seriously.  So the music they listened to had to seem more mature.  How to do that?  Well, add orchestras, stress musicianship, and trade in the electric guitar for an acoustic.  Above all, be serious.  That’ll let people have their pop music and feel grown up, too.  You know it’s art if everybody’s frowning.

So music that hoped to be sold got pretty safe.  But, as a friend once said, “safe” is one long slow slide into mediocrity.  In order for something to thrive it’s got to change.  And change can challenge people.  Some aren’t up for it. 

A friend once complained that there hasn’t been any great music since 1975.  Given where he was looking – AOR radio – I had to agree.  Had he been looking elsewhere, he might have felt differently.

And that’s a shame because I happen to think that what we call “alternative” music has been responsible for far more great rock and roll music than supposedly “classic” rock.   

My Faithful Readers: Ahem, hey Jaybee, what about the Velvet Underground?

Me:  Oh, yeah.  I forgot

I’m ashamed to say that I didn't hear my first Velvet Underground album until 1982 – at least fifteen years after it came out.  I was only three tracks into “Velvet Underground and Nico”(1967) on my first listen when it was clear to me that I was listening to a great album.    (This from a guy who doesn’t usually know he likes an album until he’s heard it a dozen times.)  I couldn’t believe how enjoyable it was.  From the beautiful ballads - written back when Lou Reed would put actual melodies in his songs, and sing them, too! - to aggressively experimental rock and roll, it amazed me that, with the exception of “Heroin”, I had heard none of it on the radio.  It was as though a , well, secret history had been revealed.

And yet, it’s quintessential “classic” rock.  I’ll admit that some of the subject matter must have been considered iffy (drugs, sado-masochism, hey, what’s not to like?) at the time, but it was the 60s for god sakes.  But then again, these topics stand in start contrast to our image of the Summer of Love.  Classics include: “Sunday Morning”, “Waiting for My Man”, “There She Goes”, “Femme Fatale”, “I’ll Be Your Mirror”.  It’s one of the all time greats.

I then figured that if the radio wouldn’t play this when it first came out, thus preventing it from entering the collective consciousness, what else were they passing on?  And if that’s what I missed then, what was I missing now?  This was when I officially gave up on commercial radio as a source of music that I could love.

The second album, “White Light/White Heat” (1968) is one of the most uncompromising albums ever made, and is admittedly a bit much.  The amps are turned way up beyond the point of distortion, let alone clarity.  If anything the subject matter is even more out there.  It could be heard as Lou Reed’s first of many extended middle fingers to his audience.    But it does have great moments – the astounding momentum of “Sister Ray”, “Lady Godiva’s Operation”, the beautiful “Here She Comes Now”.  Not for the faint hearted, it’s definitely that last one to get.

The third album - simply called “Velvet Underground” (1969) - is a total shock, because its quietly beautiful - and yet not pretty - sound occupies a completely different universe from its predecessors.  Maybe it’s the morning after the orgy of the prior album.  Minor caveats include the woozy lead guitar in the middle of “What Goes On”, which is more than made up for by the great rhythm(!) guitar solo at the end, and the experimental “Murder Mystery” which is a bit long.   Highlights include “Candy Says”, “Beginning to See the Light” and “Jesus”, which, if it were ever played at Mass, I might start going again.  It’s a morning album, but have your coffee first.  Definitely worthwhile.

“Loaded” (1970) is the last official studio album, and is much more relaxed and seemingly lightweight than the prior ones, so much so that it may take a few listens to take hold, but by then, you’re hooked.  It’s got “Who Loves the Sun”, which could have been done by the Cowsills, “Sweet Jane”, which was done admittedly better by Mott the Hoople, and “Rock n Roll”.  Lou Reed sounds like he’s having the time of his life, which is weird, because he quit the band before the record was completed.  This one’s the funnest.

Of the live albums, I recommend the double “1969: The Velvet Underground Live”.  Of the two collections of lost recordings released in the 80s, I can vouch for the first “VU”, which has “You’re My Best Friend” and “Ocean” which are amongst my all time VU favorites.

So I suggest that you start with “Velvet Underground and Nico” for the classic songs, or “Loaded” for fun.  Then choose between the strong songs on “Velvet Underground” or the good tunes on “VU”.  And if you make it to “White Light/White Heat”, I’ll be very proud.

You don’t put the Velvets on during a party, unless you’ve invited a bunch of heroin addicts.  And at times you will find them to be downright unpleasant. 

But the Velvet Underground would be the well spring from which hundreds of other bands would arise.  Some of them could be unsavory (Iggy and the Stooges), or downright alarming (The New York Dolls).  In other words, they were often totally at odds with what many of us thought of as serious music.  And they smelled of gimmick, when it should be about the music. 

But what about the music?  There was always something twisted about it.  (Call it Bizzarro music if you like.)  It was loud, messy.  Definitely not mellow.  It was, after all, rock and roll music.  And we thought we were getting too old for it. 

But that’s only because too many of us see a contradiction between a seeming lack of seriousness and art.  And thanks to the ever tightening grip of money on radio, and the blindness of even so called free form stations, this music would always be relegated to the musical ghetto.

But over time, it’s become clear that this has been the real source of inspiration for the great rock and roll music being made even now.  And we have the Velvet Underground to thank for it.

Decade: 2003

Not Facing the Here and Now:

While the country was deciding to go to war again, I was too confused and overwhelmed to know what to think. Maybe everything I thought was wrong.

So I retreated into my first vice. But pop music wasn’t going to cut it, so I tried a different time and place - jazz and world music.

Although I usually need a few listens to get a grip on a new jazz record, I liked “The Amazing Bud Powell, Volume One” right away. Bud played piano during the advent of bebop, but rather than feel challenged by his music, I felt welcomed. So my first reaction was enjoyment, then wonder at how the hell he did it. I prefer this order of events to what usually happens with virtuosos – you appreciate them first and forget to get around to liking them. I’m usually cautious about recommending jazz, but this one if great, even for a non-enthusiast.
----------------Now playing: Bud Powell - Bouncing with Bud via FoxyTunes

On the same trip to the store, I picked up “Specialists in All Styles” by Orchestra Baobab. I know even less about world music than I do about world history, so when I heard the term Afro-Cuban music, I can only imagine an island in the middle of the Atlantic where these guys meet to play. These guys were stars in Senegal, broke up for twenty odd years, and then picked right up where they left off. The sharp guitar playing helps me get past the words I don’t understand. And again, it didn’t require any time to “get”.
----------------Now playing: Orchestra Baobab - Bul Ma Miinvia FoxyTunes

Now deluded into thinking I’d mastered these two genres, I overreached into classical. The Musical Heritage Society - having forgotten what a lousy customer I was in the eighties - wanted me back. The offer was so good I didn’t make them beg. I grabbed the buy-six-for-a-buck-a-piece offer and ran.

The first two discs were Elvis Costello-recommended requiems by Brahms and Mozart. Not party music, they’re both perfect for early mornings when it’s miserable out and your conscience is bothering you. Listening to them is like being locked in a church where the choir has taken over. And not the rollicking African American gospel type choir either. The solemn life sucks type, which was right up my alley. I still can’t tell one from the other, but I kind of like it that way. If they could wait hundreds of years for me to listen, I can give them a few spins.

Two more discs were comprised of Yo Yo Ma doing “Six Suites For Unaccompanied Cello by J.S. Bach” (link), or for you MASH fans, Ahhh Bach. Morning music. Solitude music. Sanctuary music. It’s functionally similar to the requiems, except that you’ve done nothing wrong. I rarely play it all the way through, but for whatever length of time you have it on, it’s like unplugging from this all too plugged-in world. I’m still trying to decide whether to file it under Y, M or B.

And finally, the last two were the Complete Rags of Scott Joplin. There is a – joy is too strong a word - serenity to this music that makes it irresistible. It functions in a similar way to the Bach Cello music. The former can bring you peace and the latter can point you to happiness.
----------------Now playing: Scott Joplin - Maple Leaf rag via FoxyTunes

Gifts:

One of the downsides of family life is that one of those family members is bound to ask for a CD for Mother’s Day that you’d rather not have to listen to. Such was Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head”. In other words, not my idea. But my wife asked for it, and so she’s going to get it, right? Even if I think it’s going to pollute the record collection. (Hey, my records are carefully researched choices.) So I didn’t want to like it. But, you know, it wore me down. It was just different enough to entice me. The chord changes were less than obvious, and the textures varied enough to keep my interest. The vocals, not too wimpy (unlike too many of their later songs), and the words, ignorable. Even I’ve bought worse records.
----------------Now playing: Coldplay - God Put a Smile on Your Face via FoxyTunes

Another would-be present was Shakira’s “Donde Estan los Ladrones?” which I thought was Spanish for “Laundry Service”, which is the other CD my wife asked for. Niente. This one came out before Shakira became a major crossover artist. Although it’s too commercial and generic, I admire how she drops in a rock and roll guitar here and there.

Ultimate Yardbirds was a Father’s Day present, and it was going to be my attempt at resolving my Eric Clapton/Jimmy Page/Jeff Beck issues, and finally get into a band that I just kept missing. And there’s no doubt that the band’s got it going on. Check out the live blues covers, like Smokestack Lightnin’, but the singer’s just not there. Your assignment: Compare and contrast:
----------------Now playing: The Yardbirds - Smokestack Lightnin' via FoxyTunes

----------------Now playing: Howlin' Wolf - Smokestack Lightnin' via FoxyTunes

Getting Back to Normal For The Moment:

It’s hard to believe it now, but while the world was going to hell, my immediate surroundings were becoming more pleasant. There’s nothing like a terrorist attack to make you appreciate the little things.

My memories of that summer are bittersweet, and The Flaming Lips’ “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” represents it perfectly. (link). Instead of just being pretty, it’s also haunting and eerie. Wayne Coyne’s eerie voice singing "Everyone you know someday must die" seemed like a forewarning. And it was.
----------------Now playing: The Flaming Lips - Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell via FoxyTunes

The Drive-By Truckers are the first “southern rock” band I’ve had the slightest interest in for over thirty years. They emphasize songwriting over guitar histrionics. “Decoration Day” mixes Rolling Stones type guitar-crunch rock and roll with hard-edged country music. The songs are about disreputable people, and you get to hear their side of it. “My Sweet Annette”, about an elopement and a betrayal, is brilliant
---------------- Now playing: Drive-By Truckers - My Sweet Annette via FoxyTunes

Miles Smiles because he’s making a fool of me – this time by pushing his music in places I may never be. Check in with me in ten years, which is when I may have caught up with him. Sure.

Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” had won many Best Album awards the year before. I really liked their collaboration with Billy Brag on “Mermaid Avenue”, so I decided to try my first Wilco album. I found it weird, vague and pretensciouss - exactly what I normally like, but this time I wasn’t buying it. They were going for Big Star’s “Third” album vibe, but without enough hooks. And I prefer Alex Chilton’s voice to Jeff Tweedy’s. “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” is a great lead-off track, but it takes half the album before they reach that level again. So I put it aside for a while. A year later, during a very dark period, it was virtually the only thing I could listen to.
---------------- Now playing: Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart via FoxyTunes

Fall:

By my next trip to the record store I still hadn’t learned my lesson about balancing experimentation with enjoyment.

Arthur Blythe’s “Lenox Avenue Breakdown” is probably the best of the bunch.

This jazz record has a nice balance of accessibility and experimentation. The cuts are long and easy to get right away. The solos are sharp and never commonplace.

The Moldy Peaches take precociousness to new depths. You alternately want to hum along and then smack them. They’re very, very raw, talented and not interested in letting it go down easy. They force you into their little world, so it’s not for every occasion. Definitely pre-9/11 music, so I just don’t have the patience for it now.

James Carter’s “Conversin’ with the Elders” has a young saxophonist interpreting tunes from the masters. Not that I’m all that familiar with the originals, mind you. Although I have no reason to do so, I’m always surprised and disappointed when a jazz album doesn’t hit me right away. But here I was doing it again. But after several years, I think I can finally hear it.

For those of you who think Iggy Pop makes the end of western civilization official, I must admit that I agreed with you at one time. Having finally sampled his best-of “Nude and Rude” about ten years ago, and enjoyed it, I’ve since taken two dives into the deep end. The first, a few years back with “Fun House”, his second record with the Stooges, and this time with his third, “Raw Power”, which was produced by David Bowie. My version is remixed by Mr. Pop himself. The opener, “Search and Destroy”, is one of the most ferocious rock songs ever, and I can’t say anything else comes close to it. The primitive lead guitar playing seems detached from the context (ie, whatever tune is being played at the moment). This irritates some people. And let’s face it - we still wouldn’t introduce Iggy to our wives or daughters. But if you can get past all that, there’s a real primal joy to be had here. Followed, perhaps, by some hot monkey-love.
---------------- Now playing: Iggy & the Stooges - Search and Destroy via FoxyTunes

One of the big disappointments of the trip was Chris Bell’s “I Am the Cosmos”. Chris was the co-founder of Big Star, who died a few years after he left the band. This posthumously released solo album was getting good press, so it seemed a natural. The main problem is Chris’s high voice, and the strain shows more than once. To be fair, there are some gems, like “Speed of Sound” and “You and Your Sister”, with Alex Chilton singing harmony. Talk about your warm Hollywood-type reunion-before-tragic–accident-moment.
---------------- Now playing: Chris Bell - You and Your Sister via FoxyTunes

Bad Moon Rising:

My wife further eroded the record collection with Enya’s “A Day without Rain”. One of the deeper mysteries of marriage is how I somehow conveyed to her to not play this CD around me. Yes, I am aware that many humans find this music to be good, and I accept that. But just look at that cover! She’s got a tail, for God’s sake! It merely proves what I’ve always suspected: she’s actually Ursula from the Little Mermaid. And her music is just the anesthetizing poison she sprays you with BEFORE SHE EATS YOU!!..........I’ve been told to stop it. Okay, I will, but no, I will NOT apologize to a fish. Or ever go near water again. I admit that some of this is pretty, but I refuse to be coerced into liking it. It works well in those Lord of the Rings-type movies, though.

She also got Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”. There are at most four songs here that do anything for me at all. Bruce has his heart in the right place, but the subject is just too big for him, and the music is dated.

Some nice person got me “Johnny Cash: The Heart of a Legend”, one of those knock off best-ofs you find in your local big box store. It’s a shame that I already had almost every song on it. I’d give it away if it weren’t so damned good.

Crash:

And then - nothing. It all goes black. Sometimes things happen that even music can’t fix, even if you wanted to hear some. Besides, why poison the memory of the music with what was going on around it?

And that kind of busted up the year for me. I loved nothing unconditionally.

Almost Loved:

Flaming Lips

Liked:

Bud Powell

Orchestra Baobab

Coldplay

Scott Joplin