Little Johnny Jewel (Parts 1 & 2) (1977) – Television

Little Johnny Jewel was a victim of the duality: the creative icon who was “just trying to tell a vision” (pun obviously intended), encouraged to go for it without the restrictions of responsibility; the strung-out drug addict whose wealth of avant-garde ideas came at the expense of his lucidity. In this tale of an artist going vacant, Tom Verlaine champions JJ, whose drug habit has him living permanently in flux between consciousness, hallucination and dreams.

In batches of intermittent punctuation between Verlaine’s atonal yelps, Fred Smith’s drooping three-note bass riff dollops in chunky clicks over the drizzle and hiss of hi-hats and jittery kick drum palpitating with arrhythmic rapidity, as prickles of guitar teeter and lurch errantly. As the band hits its stride, Richard Lloyd’s ambling guitar chords strike a counterbalance to Verlaine’s soloing paroxysms—symptomatic manifestations of an obsessive compulsive disorder, feverishly scrubbing and scraping the fretboard clean of its notes before yielding for the moral of the story.

In the end, all Johnny Jewel wants is for us to acknowledge his sacrifice in the name of art. “[H]e’s paid the price,” the least we can do is count the cost.

Listen to "Little Johnny Jewel (Parts 1 & 2)" and purchase from iTunes Music Store.

A Thugz Mansion In Heaven’s Ghetto: Tupac Shakur—10 Years Gone

While it is fun to speculate as to whether or not he is really dead, today—September 13, 2006—marks the 10th anniversary of Tupac Amaru Shakur’s death.

Although for practically that entire decade I could have cared less about Tupac—believing his music said nothing to me about my life (to borrow from Morrissey)—I recently came to realize that his lyrics reflect a poetic truth about the human condition. In his music, conflicting emotions, values and beliefs collide in a fusion of rage, bravado, and compassion, yet flow out in terms that not only the mind understands, but the heart embraces. He was blessed with a distinctive voice, a prolific pen, an uncanny ear for rhythmic wiles, a perspicuous lyrical style that seamlessly blurred the line between reality and fiction, and profound insight into the interplay between his own desires, fears, joys, pain, anxieties, strife, triumphs, and failures, as well as those he could see in his community and society in general. Plus, the beatz is bangin’.

Despite his thug persona, Tupac’s oeuvre evinces an irrepressible artist’s sensitivity as much as it does a ruffian’s weary worldview, allowing others to understand his ambitionz az a ridah. We picture you rollin’, ‘Pac.

See also "If I Die 2Nite" (1996) — 2Pac.

Just Because It’s Dying (2002) – Jenny Toomey with Franklin Bruno

(Part Two of the From Matrimony To Alimony trilogy)

Along with Stephen Merritt, Franklin Bruno is one of the modern-day American songwriters who excels in vivid metaphors and clever wordplay that appease the intellect. His colleague and occasional collaborator, Jenny Toomey (of Tsunami/Grenadine/Liquorice/Simple Machines/Slack/Geek/solo fame), undertook to record renditions of twelve old and new Bruno compositions. One of the highlights of this association, “Just Because It’s Dying” (from Bruno’s 2000 release Kiss Without Makeup) offers encouragement to those who have lost the passion in their relationship and are on the fence as to whether it’s time to cut ties.

When the heat of July just gets you more sweaty than steamy, it’s time to rediscover the sparks that once flew: “When you see the fireworks fizzle / hit the lake, and start to sizzle / don’t you wish for one last missile / to illuminate the sky? / So do I.” Depicting love as tangible, Bruno appeals to the rational side of the debate that promotes salvaging over scrapping, knowing that rash decisions grounded in emotion are more likely to be erroneous ones. Toomey sings with empathetic compassion, backed by Bruno himself, former-Tsunami member Amy Domingues, and members of Calexico, who lay down a blanket of sauntering acoustic chamber pop. Aside from their lyrical wit, Bruno’s songs cast memorable melodic hooks as well: Toomey’s swooning inflection (“do you?” and “to you”) bait the heart, while tender moments of gently nudged melody in the transitional refrain reel it in. Once landed, Bruno’s not inclined to throw it back just yet.

Listen to "Just Because It's Dying" and purchase from iTunes Music Store.

If I Die 2Nite (1996) – 2Pac (Tupac Amaru Shakur)

In Sonic Lager’s estimation, while Eminem is rap’s wittiest artist, the late(?) 2Pac stands as its most heartfelt. His flow captivates with its clipped staccato, percussive plosives, swaggering inflection, invigorating alliteration, and metric variation whereby he pushes lines to the limits of their respective measures, sometimes extending them across bars. Likewise, his lyrical content conveys fanciful imagery while loosely observing, and taking liberties with, the rules of rhyme. “If I Die 2Nite” uncannily foretells Tupac’s fate, given that he died(?) at age 25 after being fatally wounded in a car-to-car shooting in Las Vegas. His lyrical preoccupation with premature death became a self-fulfilling prophecy, but one that, at times, he seemed almost willing to see come into fruition. While his slaying only intensified his legendary status, as his choice albums Me Against The World and All Eyez On Me exemplify, his contributions to the rap world had already secured his immortality.

Not available from iTunes Music Store.

See also A Thugz Mansion In Heaven's Ghetto.

Genius Of Crack (1993) – Tsunami

Simple Machines founders Jenny Toomey and Kristin Thomson embodied the D.I.Y. ethic of the early nineties, not only running their own independent label out of their house in Arlington, Virginia, but also strapping on guitars to front the label’s flagship band, Tsunami. Although suffering from subpar production that deprived the instruments of their dynamic range, Tsunami’s debut album Deep End still stands as the apotheosis of agitated “punk la la rock” filtered through a sieve of melodic gumption.

“Genius of Crack” relates the self-reproach of a person who has failed to take advantage of her talents to reach her aspirations. The sandpaper grit of distorted guitars slowly unfurls in billows of dissonance as the tempo gradually gains momentum, as if to impose impetus upon the inertia. Adopting the persona of an underachieving slacker, Toomey confronts her failures and disappointments. Unable to achieve financial or social prestige, she will always be disposed to itinerant waywardness. She acknowledges that her unfulfilled potential stems from choices she has made in the past, and the inability to harness her experiences into animus. In the interest of cognitive dissonance, Toomey adheres to the notion that music worth making lacks commercial appeal. But, foundering in a morass of futility, she invokes her muse to inspire, her fortitude to spur. Cohort Thomson concurs with impassioned harmonies, deploring the repercussion of their debilitating fecklessness: “We’re so slack / We come off like geniuses on crack.” The strain of regret devolves into a maelstrom of discordant guitars and crashing drums, exploding in a cathartic detonation as Toomey’s sense of self-worth is obliterated, a musician manqué on the precipice of resignation, coming to terms with the demise of her dreams.

Not available from iTunes Music Store.

Gomenasai (2005) – t.A.T.u.

There are many things wrong with Russian pseudo-lesbians, brought together by a former child psychologist/marketing executive-turned-record producer, whose voices are probably pitch-corrected, singing English words they might not understand, in a song which features the Japanese word for “I’m sorry” as the chorus’ refrain, the title of which incorrectly combines two words (“gomen nasai”) into one. Yet, paradoxically, what seems so wrong, is also so, so right. Throw in the fact that Richard Carpenter (yes, of The Carpenters) arranged the string section, and you have the perfect guilty pleasure. Emphasis on guilty. Emphasis on pleasure. “Gomensai” is an aural éclair to indulge in the privacy of secret parlors.

An elegiac melody wafts about on a breeze of piano and pathos in a performance that is quintessentially voice recital repertoire—emotionally immature but tenderly executed. Employing tropes and turns of metaphorical phrase, Julia Volkova and Lena Katina realize in hindsight that their misgivings about a forbidden relationship were amiss. The girls’ Russian accents further imbue the mea culpa with a sympathetic vulnerability, as if they are victims of cultural repression.

In its guilelessness, “Gomenasai” revisits that alcove in the heart discovered long ago in an auditorium on closing night at the high school musical. In fact, the whole production would be downright poignant were we convinced Julia and Lena meant it.

Listen to "Gomenasai" and purchase from iTunes Music Store.

No One Needs To Know (1995) – Shania Twain

It’s generally considered bad form to confess a penchant for Shania Twain’s music. While Twain’s voice may be off-putting to some, more tolerant listeners may find something worthwhile in her catalog. To be fair to her detractors, Twain’s songs tend to be superficial exercises in the banal and the trivial (“That Don’t Impress Me Much,” “Man, I Feel Like A Woman,” “Party For Two”). However, there are times when her attempts at country music succeed, stumbling across substance in such superficiality. In “No One Needs To Know,” with country twang and boot-scoot in tow, Shania plays coy about a romantic endeavor, envisioning life with her future husband. She has everything planned to a T: the details of her wedding, the children they’ll have, the name of their dog. Awww, how sweet. The problem is . . . they don’t even have a relationship yet. For now, she has no intention of letting anyone know how she feels about him, so she can indulge her fantasies without running the risk of ruining them. In that regard, despite its happy-go-lucky do-si-do, “No One Needs To Know” betrays her own doubts about the prospects for her future happiness and the possibility that she’ll only live out this charmed life in her dreams, which is why she is reluctant to set reality in motion. Hence, we can only imagine that reality will utterly disappoint her when the fella turns out to be a moonshinin’, two-timin’, no good son-of-a-gun.

Listen to "No One Needs To Know" and purchase from iTunes Music Store.

See You In September (1959) – The Tempos (Sherman Edwards & Donald Meyer/Sid Wayne)

Recorded in the days before year-round schooling threatened the viability of teenage summer flings, “See You In September” could have been performed around a beach bonfire on the first weekend of summer vacation. The arrangement is resourceful: drums and bongos rumba and a double bass ambles in the left channel where barely audible trills of piano periodically appear; in the right channel a guitar pick rakes out percussive notes that resemble organ staccatos. Borderline operatic voices belt out an apprehensive melody portraying the insecurity of a high-school romance that will be tested by physical separation. One can imagine, though, that the relationship is doomed, and new names will adorn the declarations of devotion on their respective Pee-Chees this fall.

Not available from iTunes Music Store.

Weightlifting (2004) - Trashcan Sinatras

With a tranquil beauty reflected in both its lyrics and music, “Weightlifting” is a tastefully understated ode to recreational vehicular transit, the rediscovery of a pasttime neglected. The bass guitar locks in tandem with the kick drum to establish a leisurely pace of travel, as half notes are casually tossed from the guitar on alternating downbeats and left to linger. Displaying artistry in vocal interpretation, Francis Reader inserts a pause while referring to “the rushed . . . hours / the endless lives,” as if to mock the demands that crammed schedules impose upon a hectic life. Reader extols the therapeutic virtues of driving as a diversion, as it relieves the burdens which weigh upon the soul. Background falsetto “la la la la la”s waft gorgeously in the ambiance, and chiming guitars interlace, as the spirit is renewed.

Listen to "Weightlifting" and purchase from iTunes Music Store.