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For a few years now I have been using mp3 files when DJ’ing, but as the process of converting a song from vinyl to mp3 is a somewhat slow and painstaking one, I’ve been running a hybrid vinyl/digital system. Gradually, however, I’m working through my vast record collection and digitizing the files, and the eventual goal of DJ’ing straight from a computer is slowly becoming a reality. Lately I’ve been working through stacks of old rap records from the ’80s, and this afternoon I came across this song:

Currently Playing: Salt N’ Pepa – Tramp

Salt N’ Pepa repurpose a sample from the soul classic of the same name into their song, and in doing so incorporate the down home, country roots of the term tramp with its present-day meaning. While to modern ears a tramp is a female who is promiscuous, either in act or dress, the older meaning of the word was more akin to a hobo. In Salt N’ Pepa’s world, a tramp is a shabby, wannabe player, not much different from what TLC dubbed a scrub a few years back.

Today’s entry is therefore dedicated to all my female readers. Consider it a poeticized how-to for playa-hatin’ all those would-be mack daddies and self-styled pimps, set to a grinding 4/4 beat. After all, don’t think I haven’t I noticed that a preponderance of my readership, or at least those readers who comment on my posts, is female. I suppose this makes sense– boys and girls do like to interact with one another. Just don’t get your hopes up, ladies; this pea is spoken for.

Today’s Question: Do you run into a lot of tramps?

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I realize that no one who lives in California, especially Northern California, and even more especially the Bay Area ought ever to be caught complaining about the weather, but, I mean to say– today was a really warm day. I am wishing for December, and imagining a white Christmas. As such, I am playing Christmas music.

Currently Playing: Dean Martin – Baby It’s Cold Outside

The song is not working. It’s 3:30 am, and it’s still altogether too warm. I almost wish it really *would* snow. Of course, were it ever to snow in Berkeley I’d almost certainly be the first to complain about how cold the weather is.

This is a pretty adorable song. Sure there may be slight overtones of sexism and date rape, but hey– it was 1944, and if we all learned last time that the 1950s were awesome, how amazing must the ’40s have been? Plus it’s Dean Martin; he can seduce me any old time, and I ain’t even gay.

Today’s Question: Make a wish. What is your wish?

Obviously were I granted a wish right now I’d not wish for snow; but what would I wish? I’m honestly not sure. At the risk of sounding panglossian, my life right now is exactly what I want it to be. I suppose I could go all high road on you and wish for world peace or a World Series win for the Cubs, but on a personal level? I’m blessed with so much more in life than I probably deserve as is, a wish would be gilding the lily.

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More than a few people have commented or emailed concerning my “reviews,” usually to the effect of, “those aren’t proper reviews.” Well, they aren’t exactly meant to be traditional reviews. In fact, they aren’t reviews at all. I enjoy writing, and this blog is my way of indulging that hobby. Sometimes I find inspiration to write in the form of a song or book, and while I realize that traditionally people write about such things to express an opinion or to convince you to buy (or avoid buying) it, that’s not my intent.

I sometimes feel the need to express a thought or emotion that a song conjures up within me, or to share what I feel are especially well-written lyrics. That’s it. I seldom consult reviews when it comes to music, and I don’t feel qualified to write one. If you happen to listen to a song I mention and enjoy it, well, great! If you dislike it, so be it. I put little stock in opinions in general; I don’t think anyone really knows much of anything at all, we all simply have beliefs that help us navigate the world around us. I put even less stock in opinions regarding art. We like what we like, and to some people the Spice Girls are just as good as Beethoven, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Speaking of the songs about which I write, I want to take a moment to remind you that when I list a song as “currently playing, rather than merely seeing the song in print, like this,

Currently Playing: Mono – Life in Mono

you can click the link to hear it. Fancy that. Are you hearing it? Well, are you? No? Turn your speakers up, silly. There, now you can hear it. Isn’t it the best? Close your eyes and just imagine yourself cruising in Pinky, my pink ’62 Thunderbird (R.I.P.). It’s late at night, the streets are empty, and…hey! Your eyes are open. Cheater!

Okay, no more silliness. But yah, the song you are (hopefully) hearing now is what I’d sometimes play while prowling the streets in Pinky. Money pit though she was, I miss that car sooo much. I love Tiffany, my current car, but Pinky was a one in a million.

The Money Pit

As for the song, this is the song by the “other” Mono. There is this really great Japanese band called Mono, and then there is the crappy “band” that made this song, which for some reason is a really good song to me. I think the rest of their songs are crappy. Unlike the good Mono. From Japan.

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I was sitting at my desk, wondering what to write, when this song came on:

Currently Playing: Duke Ellington – Satin Doll

“Satin Doll” transports me back in time to my days DJ’ing college parties. A typical such party would end at 2:00 am, after which I had to pay the security, bartenders, and other vendors. Then I had to pack up my sound system and stash it in its rented storage space. By the time I was done with everything, it would often be close to four in the morning.

Now, I never played any Duke Ellington at those parties; rather, “Satin Doll” was on the jukebox at King Diner, a 24-hour hamburger stand in San Francisco, where I would sometimes go to unwind after a night of work. I’d sit in that diner and drink a cup of coffee, and maybe eat a burger, and at some point I’d invariably drop a quarter into the jukebox. As soon as the first tinkling piano keys filled the diner, a feeling of calm would wash over me. For three minutes, I felt transported fifty years back into time.

DJ’ing is a lot lonelier than you’d think. I may have been the center of attention at the parties, but I was also the only person present who was sober, working, and dateless. After everyone else rode home on the buses, it was just me and the big city. Sitting in King Diner, watching the cashed out souls shambling down Mission Street, I’d contemplate my lot in life, as around me night gave way to day.

I often used to wonder about love. I had no idea what it meant to be “in love,” or how I would know if I were, and was more than half-convinced I would never find out. Sometimes I would think about whatever crush I currently had, and lament my “don’t date sorority girls” rule, when that crush happened to be on a Gamma Phi Beta. The rest of the time I’d spend asking myself if my chosen profession was what I really wanted to do with the rest of my life, or if I should be preparing myself for something better, or at the very least different. Then, because most of those parties took place on Thursday nights, I’d head back to Berkeley to catch an hour or two of sleep before going to school.

Things have changed since those days. I’m out of school, and working on different sorts of events that seldom require such late nights. I’m happily in love with the girl of my dreams, and while my job may not be quite the world-changing, fulfilling profession I once dreamed I’d have, it pays the bills and affords me enough free time to indulge my more intellectual and philanthropic pursuits. In short, life is good; but “Satin Doll” still puts me in a thoughtful mood.

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Fizzy and I will celebrate our anniversary a couple days late this year. We are going to Pop Scene, a night club, to see The Dandy Warhols perform. We are both pretty fond of this band, and are looking forward to hearing them play live for the first time.

Currently Playing: The Dandy Warhols – Bohemian Like You

If you don’t know the band, a good place to start listening to them is their Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia album. My favorite song of the bunch is “Bohemian Like You,” a super-catchy, danceable track. They are hard for me to categorize, but I guess I’d compare them to the Pixies, but maybe with a bit of a ’60s psychedelic edge to their music. Whatever they’re doing, I like it, and I hope you will, too.

The lead singer has a great sounding voice. I don’t mean so much the way he hits the notes, but the actual sound of his voice. It just works well for the sort of songs he sings. My favorite parts of this song are the places in which he does his woo-hoo’s and hey’s.

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The mid-to-late ’90s was a vibrant period for popular music. More amazing music was produced between 1993 and 1998 than in any other time, at least by my reckoning. So many subcultures, scenes, and genres that had been percolating for a decade or more erupted onto an unprepared mainstream, and for a solid six years, pop music bore the brunt, and didn’t suck. It all came crashing down with the advent of Britney Spears, harbinger of the manufactured teenybopper band craze that derailed all that was finally right with pop music, but until she arrived, there was an all-too-brief window of time when the popular and the good intersected.

Among the musical movements that came into the spotlight was the riot grrrl sound, and few bands, if any, exemplified that sound as well as Kathleen Hanna’s band Bikini Kill. Sadly, all good things come to an end, and Bikini Kill is no more. Sometimes, however, the end of one project is really just a chance to move in a new direction, and Hanna’s current band, Le Tigre, fast became a favorite of mine.

Currently Playing: Le Tigre – Deceptacon

Le Tigre’s sound is cute on the surface, but subversive underneath. Elements of punk, new wave, and even hip hop, merge into an almost unclassifiable sound. The lyrics are bouncy, catchy, at times oxymoronic, and deceptively deep.

Every day and night
Every day and night
I can see your disco disco dick is sucking my heart out of my mind
I’m outta’ time
I’m outta’ fucking time
I’m a gasoline gut with a vaseline mind, but
Wanna’ disco?
Wanna’ see me disco?
Let me hear you depoliticize my rhyme!
One! Two! Three! Four!
You got what you been asking for
You’re so policy free and you’re fantasy wheels
And everything you think
And everything you feel is
Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright!

Female empowerment, sex, and politics, are jumbled up over a beat that is half modern electro/rock hybrid and half ’80s-era new wave.

“Deceptacon” scores additional points for having such a catchy, upbeat tempo. It sends nearly any dance floor into a frenzy, even if the lyrics sail over the heads of the dancers.

Who took the bomp from the bompalompalomp?
Who took the ram from the ramalamadingdong?
Who took the bomp from the bompalompalomp?
Who took the ram from the ramalamadingdong?

As far as the unsuspecting partygoers know, it’s just fluffy nonsense, but maybe a teensy, tiny bit of the message sneaks through? One can hope.

See you later
See you later
See you later
See you later

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In my three previous song blogs I’ve written about older songs. Today I’ll share with you my favorite recent song– “Heartbeats,” by a Swedish band called The Knife. It is the quintessential example of a song with nearly all the musical elements that appeal to me, and hence a song that will almost certainly never be played on American radio stations. Let me point out that I am neither snooty nor elitist when it comes to music. The popularity, or lack thereof, of a song in no way influences my opinion about it, and I am never ashamed to admit liking a catchy pop song. “MmmBop” is one of my all-time favorite songs– that alone ought to tell you not only how diverse my taste is, but how open I am to admitting a love that ordinarily dare not speak its name.

Currently Playing: The Knife – Heartbeats

In recent years I have grown very fond of downtempo rock songs with a strong electronic leaning, and “Heartbeats” may be the best example of such a sound I’ve heard yet. On one hand it is a straight-forward pop song. Just listen to the background “ooooh ahhh” harmonies about three minutes into the song– those are more reminiscent of an ’80s-era Wham! song than anything modern; yet the electronica influence is heavy. This is without doubt the sound of rock music for the 21st Century.

In truth, this song doesn’t sound much like anything I’ve ever heard before, but if pressed I’d describe it as the sentiments of Bauhaus, set to the music of Aphex Twin, sung by a vocalist whose voice bears more than a passing resemblance to Björk. Three of my favorite artists rolled into one package? Yes, please!

One night to be confused
One night to speed up truth
We had a promise made
Four hands and then away
Both under influence
We had divine sense
To know what to say
Mind is a razor blade

Lyrically the song tells the story of a brief love affair. I think. Honestly, I’m seldom sure what most songs are about, and this one definitely has its cryptic elements, but I’m pretty sure about this one.

One night of magic rush
The start, a simple touch
One night to push and scream
And then relief
Ten days of perfect tunes
The colors red and blue
We had a promise made
We were in love

Love, right?

And you, you knew the hand of a devil
And you kept us awake with wolves’ teeth
Sharing different heartbeats in one night.

It is a tale of two people with only a moment together, who have fallen in love, yet told in dark fashion over a pulsating electronic beat. Sadly, a song like this has absolutely no place in the realm of mainstream music, and will likely never make it to the airwaves, yet it’s a brilliant piece of music. In fact, I’m not even sure you can buy this in the U.S. I found it online. If I ever do see it in a record shop I will definitely snatch it up.

I can’t imagine anyone hearing this song (and you can do so merely by clicking the link above in the “currently playing” line) and not falling instantly in love with it.

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“What is your favorite song?” That is one of the most common go-to questions for a person who is in the process of getting to know someone new. It is also a question dancers and party-goers often pose to the DJ. I’m not only a social person, I’m a DJ; this means I hear that question all the time.

It is a very difficult question for me to answer, but I can narrow it down to three songs. If pressed, I’ll say “Disco 2000” by Pulp is my single favorite song, but whenever possible I respond with a three-way tie between that song, “The Drowners” by Suede, and this song:

Currently Playing: Joy Division – Love Will Tear Us Apart

First, a quick music history lesson. Joy Division, though not very well-known today, was one of the bigger bands in the post-punk era. Though they only existed for about four years, their influence on today’s music is massive; they are without doubt one of the most influential bands of the modern era. They disbanded after the suicide of Ian Curtis, the lead singer. The remaining three members mourned, then reformed as New Order.

When the routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And the resentment rides high
But emotions won’t grow
And we’re changing our ways,
Taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart again

The lyrics evoke desperation, loss, pain, defeat– all the things Joy Division has since come to represent. It is impossible for me to separate the tragedy portrayed in the song from the tragedy that ensued, and maybe that is as it ought to be. Ian Curtis left his suicide note for the entire world to hear over the strains of an upbeat, impossibly catchy synth-pop song.

Why is the bedroom so cold
Turned away on your side?
Is my timing that flawed,
Our respect run so dry?
Yet there’s still this appeal
That we’ve kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again

As great as they were, and as impeccable as their body of work is, “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” their final single, reminds the listener that Joy Division had yet to peak as a band. Their best was almost certainly yet to come, and Curtis’ tragic death robbed the world of whatever that music would have been.

In retrospect, the song is obviously autobiographical. The lyrics reflect the marital strife between Curtis and his wife and, sadly again retrospectively, offer up a plea for help from a man on the verge of his demise. It is that demise that imbues this song with the off-the-charts level of pain it continues to arouse in listeners more than two decades later. Curtis’ pain was real, not contrived in an attempt to sell records. “Love Will Tear Us Apart” is his enduring legacy; it is inscribed on the headstone at his grave.

As an aside, although they are well-known among musicians and fans of post-punk new wave music, hardly anyone in the ‘mainstream’ knows about Joy Division; meanwhile, nearly everyone in that same ‘mainstream’ is aware of their later incarnation, New Order. When I first began DJing parties, I tried to incorporate Joy Division into my sets. Amazingly, at least to me, it nearly always clears the dance floor. Meanwhile, New Order songs like “Bizarre Love Triangle” elevate everyone to a state of dance-happy frenzy. While I should expect and accept that the masses are oblivious to what at least I consider to be the better of the two bands, I can’t help but be bothered by this fact.

Curiosity has the better of me– quick show of hands, who here is familiar with which band? Try to do more than chime in with a “me,” and instead let me know if you are know only Joy Division, only New Order, or both.

Do you cry out in your sleep
All my failings expose?
Get a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
Is it something so good
Just can’t function no more?
When love, love will tear us apart again

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Here comes another blog about a song I like. As before, you can click the song’s title in order to hear it.

Currently Playing: The Libertines – Radio America

This is but one of twelve songs on an album that came out late last year– an album I already number among my favorite records ever, as evidenced by its place on the list of my favorite albums in a recent blog.

The entire record is, as the title suggests, a punk rock punch to the throat. (“Up the bracket” is slang for just that, a throat punch.) How could it not be? Mick Jones was involved in the production for goodness sake, so naturally it rocks hard. The one real exception is the song I’m listening to right now, “Radio America.”

When Up the Bracket came out, I played this song on repeat for like days on end. This drove Fizzy crazy, but I couldn’t get enough of it. I am playing it again today; on repeat, of course. It’s one of a handful of songs, albeit a large handful, that I seem to need to hear at least five times in a row lest I feel unsatisfied.

This is not to say that I don’t enjoy the rest of the record. “The Boys in the Band” and “Time for Heroes” are other favorites, and if anything “Time for Heroes” is my favorite of the bunch, but “Radio America” is this great moment of calm on an otherwise frenetic record. I’m a big fan of love songs that avoid the cheesiness to which most fall prey. There’s something beautiful about subtle, veiled lyrics and recurring themes that run through an entire album. This is why I dislike modern-day R&B music so much: it’s too damned literal. One can say “I love you” without spelling it out; one can also imply a desire to sleep with the object of one’s affection without saying “I wanna’ get with you.” It takes a much more clever poet to convey said sentiments without beating the reader/ listener over the head with them. And while subtle and poet are not words one typically uses when discussing Pete Doherty, in this case I find them to be very appropriate.

Granted, Up the Bracket is so much more than an indie punk rock record. In between the drunken fights and heroin injections are the scars of class warfare and the awkward uncertainties of someone posturing as much more than he inwardly believes himself to be. And right in the midst of it all is a heartfelt song of love.

And they watched old films flicker
Across the old palace movie screen
Crying, “What a shame as she slipped in the rain
The poor dancing girl, well she won’t dance again.”

And they tell me this was a transmission
To take my love, my love to you
And only to you.

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I rather enjoyed compiling the list of albums for my last post. As I alluded to in that post, music is a driving force in my life. As I don’t think I am unusual in this regard, from time to time I will devote a blog to a particular album, single, or song that I find especially interesting. I think my taste is eclectic enough that over time I should cover something of interest to most of my readers, either by introducing you to new music that you like, or discussing something you already enjoy. And along the way I’ll probably write about more than a few things you’ve neither heard before nor care to hear again.

Currently Playing: Ash – Girl From Mars

The text above is a clickable link, and will open up a new window in which you can hear the song.

This is a 3-track single, released in 1995. The two backing tracks, “Astral Conversations with Toulouse Lautrec,” and “Cantina Band” are interesting, the latter being a cover of the song played in the cantina scene of the original Star Wars film. As an aside, the band are obviously huge Star Wars fans– the album on which “Girl From Mars” appears is titled 1977 because that was the year Star Wars was released, and the album opens with the sound of a TIE-Fighter roaring past.

This post is devoted to the title track; I think it’s a pretty phenomenal song:

Do you remember the time I knew a girl from Mars?
I don’t know if you knew that.
Oh, we’d stay up late playing cards,
Henri Winterman cigars.
Though she never told me her name,
I still love you, Girl from Mars.

What a great conceit for a song. The girl who came into his life, with whom he spent late nights smoking and playing cards, and whom he knew only as the girl from Mars. It probably isn’t a true story, in fact I read somewhere the song was initially “Girl From Ards,” because the lead singer once dated a girl from the city of Ards, but who cares? Girl from Mars works better! She came into his life, never gave a name other than “I’m the girl from Mars,” and one day, as you learn later in the song, vanished. Wow.

I’m going to have to let you know (as if you couldn’t tell by now) that I am a huge fan of song lyrics. At their core, song lyrics are poetry, plain and simple. The addition of music elevates them to operatic levels of emotional significance. I’m especially big on subtle nuances, which for me can take a great song and bump it up to epic status.

Sitting in our dreamy days by the water’s edge,
On a cool summer’s night.
Fireflies and the stars in the sky,
Gentle glowing light
From your cigarette.
The breeze blowing softly on my face,
Reminds me of something else.
Something that in my memory has been replaced,
Suddenly it all comes back.
And as I look to the stars.

I remember the time I knew a girl from Mars
I don’t know if you knew that…

I probably heard this song 100 times before I caught the little rhyme “look to the stars” that leads into “girl from mars.” I love that.

I also love the story the song tells. I am not completely sure about this, but I *think* what’s happening is that the singer is with a girl he is currently seeing, and something has reminded him of the nameless Girl from Mars whom he now misses. It may be that the entire song is about the nameless girl, but the shift in tenses later in the song:

Surging through the darkness over the moonlight strand,
Electricity in the air.
Twisting all through the night on the terrace,
Now that summer’s here.
I know you are almost in love with me,
I can see it in your eyes.
Strange light shimmering over the sea tonight,
And it almost blows my mind
And as I look to the stars

makes it seem even more likely that there are two girls, one past, one present, involved.

Regardless of the specifics, I think this song just about has it all. It’s upbeat, with a catchy tune, but lyrically poignant and clever, with strong melancholy overtones. It also does something else I love in songs, which is to add a subtle change to the chorus at the end of the song. Ash does this from time to time to great effect, in this case the addition of “I still dream of you,” replacing “though she never told me her name” in the final chorus.

Do you remember the time I knew a girl from Mars?
I don’t know if you knew that.
Oh, we’d stay up late playing cards,
Henri Winterman cigars.
And I still dream of you.
I still love you, Girl from Mars.

I’ve never had a girl from Mars to miss, but I sometimes wish I did, for how romantically tragic would that be? Thanks to Ash, for three and a half minutes, whenever I want, I can pretend to miss a girl from Mars.