Brandon's Buzz

Mary Chapin Carpenter — “Grow Old With Me”
(from Party Doll and Other Favorites) —

Recorded in 1995 for an all-star tribute to John Lennon, Carpenter’s serene, sweet, achingly tender take on one of Lennon’s final compositions stands as a simple but potent testimony to the true and total power of love.

LFO — “Every Other Time” (from Life is Good) —

Please understand that, ordinarily, it would not have been my preference to go with boy band tuneage twice in three days. But even though he hadn’t even been heard from in eons, I found myself strangely crushed last night when I read of the tragic passing of Rich Cronin, who died at a way-too-effin’-young thirty-five years of age yesterday after a protracted battle with leukemia. Cronin was the (painfully gorgeous) lead singer of LFO, a late-’90s pre-fabricated group of buff dudes who could harmonize and whose primary reason for existing was to cash in on the already-waning teen pop craze. (If *NSYNC was Coke and 98 Degrees was Pepsi, then LFO was, at very least, Shasta.) Cronin was also the physical manifestation of whichever behind-the-scenes ghostwriter insisted that the phrases “New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits” and “Chinese food makes me sick!” must rhyme. In other words, it is quite true that nobody was ever gonna confuse this kid with Dylan or Springsteen (or even Daryl Hall!). But he was magnificently easy on the eyes, and he had the craziest knack for bringing to life perfectly ridiculous pop tunes — like “Time,” a miraculously melodic chronicle of the up-and-down intricacies of young lust love — which were deviously digestible and hauntingly hummable.

Chantal Kreviazuk — “Surrounded”
(from Under These Rocks and Stones) —

Another discussion for another day is why, in spite of her status as a go-to writer of agile, dependably catchy pop tunes (her work has been snapped up by the likes of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, Gwen Stefani, even my beloved Hilary Duff), the magnificent Kreviazuk has never — at least not here in the States, despite having crafted four exquisite, exhilarating albums — become the megastar she has always, always deserved to be. This one — a wrenching portrait of a best friend’s senseless suicide — knocked me flat when I first heard it thirteen years ago, and it still gets me where I live. Every time.

Westlife — “When You’re Looking Like That”
(from Unbreakable: The Greatest Hits, Vol. 1) —

An instant sensation across the pond, Daddy Clive tried his damnedest to make these guys stateside stars, and even shepherded their debut single “Swear It Again” to the top of the charts at the turn of the century. But America had other plans, because by then, we had become weary of our own boy bands, and we weren’t about to throw our arms around a group of Bri’ish teenyboppers that we didn’t grow ourselves. Too bad, that, because these guys were (and remain) ferociously talented, and not by half did the Backstreet Boys ever have material this great.

Kings of Leon — “Manhattan” (from Only By the Night) —

The countdown has already begun toward the October 19 arrival of Come Around Sundown, the white-hotly-anticipated fifth studio album — and first this side of Night, the thrilling opus that made them instant stars — from those tantalizing Tennessee titans Kings of Leon. But I’ll happily confess that I have yet to unlock and unravel all of Night‘s ravishing mysteries, perfectly notwithstanding the fact that that disc contiunes to stay in heavy rotation in my house two full years after its release. This tune — an epic, electrifying ode to tripping the light fantastic — is sparse lyrically, but the peerless Caleb Followill’s dynamic (and, in its own odd way, quite delicate) vocal performance is just extraordinary to behold.

The work schedule was beyond crazy this weekend, which is why I had to flake on yesterday’s honey from the hive (although I did manage to scribble it out on a miniature legal pad, and I am mere moments from typing it up and plugging it into today’s slot). But if you missed any of the remainder of last week’s tunes, below is a quick recap. (Incidentally, I’ve an update to Thursday’s 90210 discussion: Sherry Ann sent me a couple of great snapshots of the scrapbook yesterday, and I’ll be posting those later this week, as soon as I can get them from my phone to my computer.)

MONDAY: Dave Matthews — “Gravedigger” (from Some Devil) —

TUESDAY: Pat Benatar — “All Fired Up” (from Best Shots) —

WEDNESDAY: Tanya Tucker — “Down to My Last Teardrop”
(from 20 Greatest Hits) —

THURSDAY: Chris Isaak — “Wicked Game”
(from Heart Shaped World) —

FRIDAY: Tori Amos — “I Don’t Like Mondays”
(from Strange Little Girls) —

SATURDAY: Annie Lennox — “A Whiter Shade of Pale”
(from Medusa) —

Annie Lennox — “A Whiter Shade of Pale” (from Medusa) —

Sherry Ann and I have this thing we call “The Annie Lennox Rule,” which simply states that once Annie has lent her golden pipes to a particular tune, said tune has been officially and irrevocably sung. And so it holds here, as Procol Harum’s densely cinematic, drug-addled classic becomes, in Ms. Lennox’s eminently capable hands, a lush, wistful, dreamlike masterpiece.

Tori Amos — “I Don’t Like Mondays” (from Strange Little Girls) —

A and I trekked down to Austin’s Alamo Drafthouse last night to join in the obscenely awesome fun of the ’90s alternative sing-along, hands down my all-time favorite among the Action Pack’s festivities. For damn sure, we got our quota filled of classic Smashing Pumpkins, Stone Temple Pilots, Bush, and No Doubt. (We even got a little Jamiroquai tossed in for good measure!) And of course, we all in that theater got our moment in the sun to scream along with Eddie as he relayed a riveting story about King Jeremy the Wicked. And that got me thinking about other songs about school shootings and apeshit-crazy teenagers, which naturally led me to
The Boomtown Rats’ “I Don’t Like Mondays,” and that immediately brought me to my astonishing Ms. Amos, and to her devastating 2001 cover of same. How crazy-brilliant is Tori? Here’s how: The Rats’ Bob Geldof sang his take on “Mondays” from the point of view of the confused little girl who inaugurates a fresh week by opening fire on her classmates; Tori, meantime, without changing a damned syllable of the text, unspools the same story from the point of view of the peace officer who first encounters the carnage. You’d best believe this was dicey stuff a decade ago, released as it was in the immediate wake of 9/11, but rarely has such wrenching, raw material emerged this riveting, or this breathtakingly cool.

Chris Isaak — “Wicked Game” (from Heart Shaped World) —

Sherry Ann resides foremost in my thoughts on this morning of this day, September 2, 2010. 9-02-10. See, when we were but young, hormone-propelled high school churren, Beverly Hills, 90210 was not so much a mere television show as it was an obsession — for the world’s youth at large, to be sure, but specifically for us. (True story: at the beginning of sophomore year, with all the latitude that her allowance would permit, Sherry Ann schlepped from store to store buying up all the teen magazines — anybody out there remember Teen Beat? Or Bop!? — that she could find, as the periodicals were literally littered from cover to cover with photographs, posters, stickers, and images of the show’s sickeningly photogenic cast. She then delivered unto me this ridiculous pile of magazines, and I swear to Jesus, I sat on her living room floor for an entire weekend with a pair of scissors clipping out pictures and text for the sole purpose of cobbling together a 90210 scrapbook for my best friend in the world, a scrapbook that she’ll swear to this day still exists, even though she hasn’t allowed me or anyone else to touch or even lay naked eyes on it since its completion.) And on this day, I can think of no more appropriate song to emanate from the hive’s speakers than this one, a haunting and nearly ethereal tune that became an all-time smash in large part because of its use underscoring a pivotal Dylan/Brenda reconciliation scene that Sherry Ann made me watch, rewind, watch, rewind, and watch again roughly 17,000 times. Much love to you on all days, my dear, but most especially on this one.

Tanya Tucker — “Down to My Last Teardrop”
(from 20 Greatest Hits) —

Hilarious and highly improbable though it may seem, that notorious country-phobe A has become quite taken with one Tanya Tucker this summer (kid you not, if I hear “Delta Dawn” wafting from his general direction one more time, I’m literally gonna choke him), but while he is quite familiar with the iconic material she produced in her teenage years, he is almost completely unacquainted with the blistering tunes which marked the dynamic second act of her storied career. Darling, consider this sassy, catchy kiss-off a terrific introduction to the rest of the story.

Pat Benatar — “All Fired Up” (from Best Shots) —

Not by a long shot was this her biggest hit (it barely squeaked into the top twenty in the summer of 1988, far beyond her commercial zenith), but — and think me weird if you must — this no-frills straight-ahead stunner has always been my favorite of Benatar’s boombox-shattering blockbusters, and when it popped up in an iPod shuffle while I was running errands earlier this afternoon, I cranked up the stereo, squealed with utter delight, and sped down the highway singing along with all my might.

Dave Matthews — “Gravedigger” (from Some Devil) —

Taking a brief breather from his beloved Band in the fall of 2003, the masterful Matthews struck gold with an agonizing anthem which celebrated the delicate fragility of life and the brazen defiance of death.

If you missed any of last week’s tunes, here is a quick recap:

MONDAY: The Band Perry — “If I Die Young”
(from The Band Perry) —

TUESDAY: Finley Quaye & William Orbit (featuring Beth Orton) — “Dice”
(from Much More Than Much Love) —

WEDNESDAY: Celine Dion — “Taking Chances”
(from Taking Chances) —

THURSDAY: Court Yard Hounds (featuring Jakob Dylan) —
“See You in the Spring” (from Court Yard Hounds) —

FRIDAY: John Lennon — “Nobody Told Me”
(from Lennon Legend: The Very Best of John Lennon) —

SATURDAY: Carly Simon — “Coming Around Again”
(from Coming Around Again) —

SUNDAY: Joe Purdy — “City” (from Only Four Seasons) —