Brandon's Buzz

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

An all-time fave amongst the Grey’s Anatomy set, Purdy has long past perfected the art of painful, prodding earnestness. But sometimes — as on this aching elegy to a city and a woman who are inextricably linked inside his mind — he can still strike a chord. The more things change, indeed.

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

With a magnificent, refreshingly adult mid-’80s marvel, the majestic Simon reignited her flagging fortunes and saved one of pop’s most glorious careers from fading entirely into oblivion. Couldn’t have happened to a smarter, cooler gal.

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

From the watershed year that became 1984, in which the baton was officially passed and a new generation of torchbearers — Michael, Madge, George, Cyndi, Prince — was anointed at once, a pivotal, posthumous smash — and a fitting final farewell — from a still-young man who had nonetheless rightfully become one of rock’s elders.

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

When these goofy, petulant heifers speak, they never fail to make me want to scale the interior walls of my skull trying in vain to quell the resulting brain itch. But when they sing — with or without that woefully ignorant babbling brook Natalie Maines — they never fail to create unfettered magic. (Incidentally, I am the loving boyfriend of a human being who positively detests cold weather of any stripe, and I predict this one’s gonna touch him deeply somewhere beneath the palm fronds and beach sand of his soul.)

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

Sherry Ann will tell you that once upon a glorious, more innocent time, there was nobody on the planet I loved more than this golden-throated gal, and it’s quite true: in her early days, before she and her handlers allowed David Foster and his cabal to drag her across every corner of adult contemporary hell, Dion was the most thrilling, most dynamic pop star on the dial. And this tune — the title track from her 2007 “comeback” effort — served as a soaring, riveting reminder of her raw, titanic talent.

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

A haunting, wholly satisfying mash-up of genres (country meets electronica!) and ideals which hinges on (and benefits immeasurably from) the tense, taut interplay between the flighty Quaye and the earth angel Orton (who, by dint of her mere presence, literally lifts everything she touches toward magnificence).

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

I had another song picked out entirely, but Jaron Lowenstein (of country band Jaron and the Long Road to Love) gave this tune a shout-out on his Facebook yesterday, and I’ve been listening to it all morning positively enraptured by its elegant, easy beauty. The siblings Perry — led here by the exquisite Kimberly (think Taylor Swift’s ethereal beauty, but with Alison Krauss’ otherworldly talent) — deliver a simple, sweet knockout with their romantic rumination on leaving this plane, ready or not.

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

MONDAY: Tracey Thorn — “Oh, the Divorces!”
(from Love and its Opposite) —

TUESDAY: Joshua Kadison — “Beau’s All Night Radio Love Line”
(from Painted Desert Serenade) —

WEDNESDAY: Billy Bragg & Wilco (featuring Natalie Merchant) —
“Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” (from Mermaid Avenue) —

THURSDAY: Joni Mitchell — “All I Want” (from Blue) —

FRIDAY: Cyndi Lauper (with Jonny Lang) — “How Blue Can You Get”
(from Memphis Blues) —

SATURDAY: Lady Antebellum — “Learning to Fly”
(from iTunes Sessions: Lady Antebellum) —

SUNDAY: Fleetwood Mac — “Steal Your Heart Away”
(from Say You Will) —

Fleetwood Mac — “Steal Your Heart Away” (from Say You Will) —

It’s not quite “Second Hand News” or even “Silver Springs,” fair enough, but Stevie and Lindsay — the greatest love/hate/hate-to-love story in contemporary music history — prove they can still make those combustible sparks fly in this thrilling third-act triumph.

Lady Antebellum — “Learning to Fly”
(from iTunes Sessions: Lady Antebellum) —

I have long thought that the brilliant Bonnie Tyler owns outright my favorite rendition of Tom Petty’s oft-covered 1991 rock radio classic, but recent developments have indicated to me that perhaps it is high time to revisit that ruling. An absolute stunner from the unquestioned band of the year.

Cyndi Lauper (with Jonny Lang) — “How Blue Can You Get”
(from Memphis Blues) —

Lauper’s new album — a soul-burned journey down into the heart of the blues — is fascinating but maddeningly uneven, but this slowed-down reinvention of an old B.B. King classic (one of two Memphis collaborations between Lauper and a never-better Lang, as compelling and as gut-wrenchingly real now as he was in his teen prodigy days) is an undeniable treat.

Joni Mitchell — “All I Want” (from Blue) —

After weeks of dragging our feet, A and I finally caught up with summer 2010’s it-indie-film The Kids Are All Right last evening, and while I’ll refrain from boring you with the specifics of a formal review, let it suffice to say that A thought it was terrible, and I thought that even though the script (and the film’s premise and conceit in general) was seriously underdeveloped, the performances — particularly Mark Ruffalo’s as a free-spirit restaurateur-slash-accidental dad to a pair of teenagers — were uniformly exquisite. And if you’re asking yourself what in hell any of the above has to do with the incomparable Joni Mitchell and/or with today’s drop of honey from the hive: this tune — a diamond from one of the ten most important, most influential albums in the history of ever — turns up at a pivotal place in the film, and reminded me in a flash that I don’t pay nearly enough respect to the magnificent Ms. Mitchell here on the Buzz, and that’s just not acceptable.

Billy Bragg & Wilco (featuring Natalie Merchant) —
“Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” (from Mermaid Avenue) —

Gruff collides with graceful in a pitch-perfect re-imagining of a forgotten Woody Guthrie classic.