It’s hard to take on board that Vic Chesnutt has died. I was in Newfoundland in November and found his latest album ‘Skitter on Take-Off in a record shop. I bought it. You would. Ramshackle as he could be, and this is at the most ramshackle end of the spectrum his records were always exuberant in some strange downtrodden way and always yielded up a few tracks worth the price of admission. Produced, if you could call it that, by Jonathan Richman and Tommy Larkins it’s quintessential Chesnutt – the celebrity friends without any of the glitz or glamour. He was a cantankerous, awkward, morbidly depressive man who railed against his paraplegic condition but he was so well loved by his friends (celebrity and otherwise) that you had to accept on faith that there was a warmth there as well. Reports have attributed his death to a self administered overdose of muscle relaxants, his suicide, if that was what it in fact was, the result of a deepening sense of desolation brought on by his inability to pay for his medical bills. In a story that mirrors the demise earlier in the year of former Wilco member Jay Bennett, the US healthcare system must once again accept a burden of blame as it fails time and again to make any allowances for the realities of life for those unable to get health insurance. Chesnutt, confined to a wheelchair since the age of 19 and with a couple of decades of solid drinking and drug abusing under his belt would have found it impossible to get health insurance at a price he could afford on a gigging musician’s income and that was what sentenced to death. He died on Christmas Day in a society that has made an unreformed Scrooge it’s guiding light. He has left a huge body of music but the most fitting bequest he could leave would be if some of those celebrity friends could use his death as a fulcrum on which to lever a move for healthcare reform. Barack Obama has promised a dream of America, but a waking reality is also needed, a reality where a broken backed man has an option other than to take his own life

Challenge topic: insight or “aha!” moment.

From 2:09 is my “aha”, but the rest is good, too!

Vic Chesnutt wheels into the spotlight at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC on June 16, 2009. (Photos copyright 20009, Steven P. Marsh)

UPDATE: Longtime Vic Chesnutt collaborator Kristin Hersh has set up a web page for donations to help Vic’s survivors. Click here to donate. Kristin promises that all proceeds will go to the family to help cover the costs of Vic’s hospitalization and burial.

Singer-songwriter Vic Chesnutt, 45, who was confined to a wheelchair after breaking his neck in a car accident at age 18, died today after lapsing into a coma after taking an overdose of muscle relaxants earlier this week, family spokesman, Jem Cohen told The New York Times.

Vic's energy came out in a howl.

Kristin Hersh, a frequent collaborator with Chesnutt, said on Twitter that it was suicide. “No one knows much: another suicide attempt, looks bad, coma–if he survives, there may be brain damage,” Hersh Tweeted yesterday. “This time, it’s real scary: *this* time, he left a note, *this* time, he asked them to call me.”

The Athens, Ga., -based performer, had attempted suicide in the past. But the lyrics of the songs on his new album, In the Cut, seemed to signal a positive outlook on life. He even wrote directly about suicide in “Flirted With You All My Life,” writing “Everywhere I go, you’re always right there with me. I flirted with you all my life. Even kissed you once or twice… But clearly I was not ready. … Oh death, really I’m not ready, no no.”

Vic opened for Jonathan Richman at the Bowery Ballroom in NYC in June. He seemed as cantankerous as ever and full of life. After his set, he hung out with some younger men at the back of the room and talked about partying after the show. He seemed content, not as angry or hurting as in the past. Perhaps he had just learned to hide it better.

R.I.P., Vic.

Jonathan Richman (of The Modern Lovers) – Live in Concert, 2009. Copyright Scott Dudelson. This photo may not be used in any form without permission. To hire Scott to photograph for your publication / website please contact Scott@prodege.com. Serious inquiries only.

Listen
Shopping-Eek A Mouse
Buying a Book – Joe Tex
How Much is that Doggie in the Window – Annie Jackson, Barbara Jones, Matz Ztefrens, Joe Livoti and Rolf Harris
Lost in the Supermarket – The Clash
Billy Broke my Heart at Walgreens (I cried all the Way to Sears) – Ruby Wright
Ayres the Bakers – Boycott Coca Cola Experience
Warrior in Woolworths – X-Ray Spex
Duo – Carlos D’Allessio
Fairytale in the Supermarket – The Raincoats
Can’t Buy Me Love – The Beatles
Shopping Mall – R. Crumb and his Cheap Suit Serenaders
Bargain Store – Dolly Parton
The Lonely Little Thrift Store – Jonathan Richman
Window Shopping – The Beach Bullies
La Petite Boutique – Edith Piaf
Luxury Mood – Superthriller
La Fille de Checkout – Men in Grey Suits
Ballad of a Teenage Queen – Johnny Cash
Manager in Love – Kissogram
Drugstore Woman – John Lee Hooker

Time for the next installment of Uncovered & Covered, this time around it’s The Modern Lovers‘ “Pablo Picasso” from the Boston band’s self-titled debut, released in 1972.

The Modern Lovers “Pablo Picasso”

David Bowie “Pablo Picasso”

John Cale “Pablo Picasso”

Burning Sensations “Pablo Picasso”

The Truffauts “Pablo Picasso”

Simple Minds “Pablo Picasso”

The Decemberists “Pablo Picasso”

“Pablo Picasso” lyrics:

Well some people try to pick up girls
And get called assholes
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and
So Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole

Well the girls would turn the color
Of the avacado when he would drive
Down their street in his El Dorado
He could walk down you street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole
Not like you
Alright

Well he was only 5′3″
But girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole
Not in New York

Oh well be not schmuck, be not abnoxious,
Be not bellbottom bummer or asshole
Remember the story of Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole
Alright this is it

Some people try to pick up girls
And they get called an asshole
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and so
Pablo Picasso was never called…

I’ve been away from the blog for a few days and really don’t have a great excuse other than “I just bought Rock Band 2 and have been fairly obsessed since its arrival.”  I’ve selected a piece today that I first heard at the Cal Summer Debate Institute back in 1996.  It’s a fun poem and somehow I heard the word “gusto” the other day and couldn’t help but think of it.  I know it’s not the traditional song format that I have always adhered to, but sometimes you need a change of pace.  Today’s “jam”: Jonathan Richman – I eat with gusto, damn you bet.  Enjoy….

Jonathan Richman – I eat with gusto damn you bet

I may be stating the obvious here, but the world of popular music is pretty sexist. In particular, there is enormous differences in the expectation around vocal ability. 

While Dylan, Richman and many other dudes can get away with close-to-atonal stylings, we expect a female vocalist to sing like an angel (with this simile premised on (i) angels existing and (ii) said angels being perfect in diction and pitch).

Kimya Dawson thus sticks out like an ailing thumb, with a voice that breaks, crackles and splutters throughout.  Many of you will be familiar with it as the defacto “voice” of Ellen Page from the Juno soundtrack.

Here we hear Dawson in full swing, delivering fourteen lyrics-heavy numbers. Many of them thrill me, overburdened as they are with oddball imagery, memorable phrases and insane couplets. 

Dawson occupies a parallel universe to most folk and melds the cynicism of Rob Clarkson, the naivety of Jonathan Richman and the perversity of The Magnetic Fields.

This album contains enough gems (the first 3 tracks are fantastic, Parade pure summer joy) to overcome the slide in quality in the back half.

One final notes, this album benefits considerably from headphone listening…

File under : Surrender to her Vagenda

All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.

– Pablo Picasso

Happy 128th Pablo*… now over to The Modern Lovers.

Pablo Picasso

Well some people try to pick up girls
And get called assholes
This never happened to Pablo Picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and
So Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole

Well the girls would turn the color
Of the avacado when he would drive
Down their street in his El Dorado
He could walk down you street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo Picasso never got called an asshole
Not like you
Alright

(read the full lyrics here)

And if you have experienced the genius of Picasso’s poetry, check out this excerpt from The Burial of the Count of Orgaz & Other Poems.

* thanks to gingatao for bringing this to my attention

Back around the time this album came out, I caught these guys playing a show at the Evelyn Hotel in Fitzroy. It remains one of the most memorable and enjoyable gigs in my memory banks.

I distinctly recall Dave McCormack (vocals) announcing they’d be playing their tunes in alphabetical order. They threw in a couple of great covers (including (perhaps) I Still Call Australia Home). The vibe that night, and on this album, was that music must be FUN.

These guys always seemed to be having a ball, but in a laidback, whacky uncle sort of way. The songs either rush at you smiling gleefully, or just sit around spinning slightly confusing tales that make you giggle (or shake your head in embarrassment). Imagine Pavement channeling Jonathan Richman.

Indeed the band even give a nod to Jonathon (along with Jim Henson and fellow Brisbanites The Melniks) on the outstanding (and cleverly titled) Singlette.

This album is chockfull of tracks that still sound fresh and still make me happy. I defy you to listen to Alone or If Yr Famous and You Know It, Sack Yr Band and not be enamoured. Here are two different versions of the equally impressive Pack Yr Suitcases (with and without theremin/bandmates):

File under: Guaranteed to get your patootie jigging

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Jonathan Richmann’s Roadrunner is the greatest 2-chord jam ever. I’ve never been tempted to visit every place mentioned in the song, but someone else has.

In Lipstick Traces, Griel Marcus writes about it and describes the final minute where Richmann abandons all narrative and shouts out random words from earlier in the song.

Like this:-

In love with massachusetts
I’m in love with radio on
like the roadrunner
o.k., now you rock & roll late at night
the factories and modern rock & roll
modern girls and modern now
roadrunner, roadrunner
going faster late at night
I don’t feel so bad now in the welcome to the spirit of 1956
patient in the the turnpike, got the
I’ve got the, got the shop
with the radio on at night
and me in late at night
it helps me from being lonely suburban speed
and it smells like modern massachusetts
I’ve got the world, got sing modern lovers

(radio on!)
I got the moonlight
128 when it’s dark outside
I’m rock & roll
don’t feel so alone, got the once
roadrunner twice
I’m in love with rock alright
I’m in love with modern the radio on
it helps me from being alone & roll and I’ll be out all on
like the roadrunner
that’s right

said power of massachusetts when it’s late at night
roadrunner
that’s right

well sounds
alright the
(radio on!)
got the rockin’ modern neon massachusetts, got the
(radio on!)
I got the power of the am
got the, late at night, (?), girlfriend as you go by quick
suburban trees, am
(radio on!)
got the am sound, got night
(radio on!)
I got the modern sounds of miles an hour
gonna drive to the stop ‘n’ the auto signs got the power of modern car
don’t feel so alone, got the radio heaven(thunder)
and I say roadrunner sound
(radio on!)
I got the car from love with modern moonlight
me in love with bushes next to ‘57
the highway is your am
(radio on!)
got the car, got the

Actually it isn’t like that at all, that’s my William Burroughs-style cut-up  of the lyrics.

Seminal proto-punk luminary gives up electric guitars, snotty lyrics and ‘stiffness’ for Spanish guitars, children’s songs and a certain kind of ‘looseness’? Yes, it’s Jonathan Richman!

He's a little dinosaur

My first brush with Jonathan Richman was when he played a background troubadour in the film, There’s Something About Mary, borrowing heavily from 50s rock ‘n’ roll aesthetics and blending two sides of his artistic persona – rock instrumentation and mellow(er) lyrical conceits. After an introduction like this, Modern Lovers might not be such a shocking listen to the newcomer; nor would his latest offering, Because Her Beauty is Raw and Wild. But hold those two records side by side and you’ve got surface opposites so polar you’d be forgiven for thinking there’s an ice cap lurking around the corner.

Between then and now, Richman’s had quite an impressive artistic trajectory, dabbling in styles as disparate as country & western, disco and flamenco, singing in foreign languages the better to broaden his artistic canvas. The biggest handbrake turn might have been around 1977 when the amps went in the bin and Rock and Roll with the Modern Lovers was released, but that doesn’t mean his next record will be any less of a surprise.

Jonathan came to Manchester last Sunday for a set at The Deaf Institute. The audience was made up of an interesting mix of youngsters and oldsters, fitted out in everything from punkish leathers to casual shirt & jeans combos; testament in itself to Richman’s wide (albeit cult) appeal.

Unsurprisingly, given that Jonathan doesn’t come to Manchester all that often, the gig sold out quickly. On our way in, we passed a woman probably the same age as my mother wearing a raincoat and steamy glasses, asking if we had any spare tickets. Upstairs, a bald chap asked, “Do you do Jonathan Richman?” All around, people chatted excitedly, the buzz of voices rising each time the lights flickered.

Nowadays, Jonathan performs on a polished Spanish guitar accompanied by Tommy Larkins on drums. Often he improvises lyrics and musical phrases, and sometimes puts the guitar down while Tommy keeps the beat so he can dance and wave sleigh-bells infront of the audience.  He’s an unashamed audiophile, asking us to excuse the heat because air-conditioning interferes with his sound. When he finishes a song, he gives the audience a hang-dog stare from beneath his knitted brows, as if weighing the merits of what he does solely on our reaction.

If it's breakfast time...it's breakfast time.

Aside from the accomplished showmanship and genial banter, what’s most compelling about Jonathan Richman as a performer is his dual attitude of inclusivity and defiance. Eager for people to enjoy the music and, more importantly, themselves, he’s determined at the same time only to perform and sing what matters to him. This defiance is erected primarily against what Jonathan might call the ‘false world’ of emotional occlusion, air conditioning and Prozac, but once during the third and final encore (which, according to my friend Ian, was an almost unprecedented luxury in itself), the audience ran smack into it. Requests for ‘Roadrunner’, ‘Ice Cream Man’ and “Your Entire Back Catalogue!” came flooding in. “Ladies and gentlemen; I came back – because I had something to say to you,” Jonathan intoned, before easing into one of the most sombre numbers of the evening, ‘Mr. Sorrow’.

The reason Jonathan is featuring in Very Next Tuesday is because of his attitude towards music – to play what is relevant, what matters to him now. While the sonic palette might not be particularly ‘innovative’, his choice of subject matter is idiosyncratic and the repertoire of live material evolves with him, which is the epitome of forward-thinking. ‘Roadrunner’ is most definitely out of the songbook for as long as Jonathan feels it’s unrepresentative of where he is. On the flipside, ‘I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar’ rubbed shoulders with ‘Fender Stratocaster’ and ‘Not So Much to be Loved as To Love’; familiar tunes subjected to unusual treatments. He refuses to treat the music he writes as if it lived in a vacuum. And I doubt Richman approaches it as a protest against the homogeneity of Radio One Top 40 pop music. He does what he does because nothing more natural could occur to him.

Is it unreasonable of artists to pout when audiences demand the same, care-worn hits at the expense of newer material? No, especially not when the newer material offers a fresher direction. On the new record, ‘Our Party Will Be On The Beach Tonight’, a low key number with muddy drums and film-noir piano has the haunting lyrics:

Charcoal will cover everything tonight,

Ashes from the fire over everything,

Ashes from the fire…over everything we’re wearing at the party tonight.

One familiar with his back-catalogue would assume a song from Jonathan with the words ‘Party’ and ‘Beach’ in the title would be a major key, jaunty number but it’s paints a subdued scene: faces around a bonfire, flickering in the dark with blankets wrapped around one another’s shoulders. It’s also a welcome surprise from an artist who I hope continues to invite us to stranger, personal places well into the future.

Me and Andy went to see Jonathan Richman play a show in The Deaf Institute, Manchester, this past Sunday. It was just him and his geetar, with Tommy Larkin playing on drums. Jonathan stood there in the spotlight with his uniform striped T and those familiar, black cotton Chinese shoes that he always seems to be wearing, and that you can buy from the Chinese market for a few dollars. (I have a pair, and they’re very comfortable.) Jonathan was incredible – still kooky as hell. A little awkward, very childlike and full of smiles for the audience. At one point, I looked around the crowd, and we were all smirking; giggling with delight. Jonathan hadn’t said anything, he was just eyeing up the stragglers, with his wide eyed and goofy, slack jawed grin. There was a spattering of funny, self reflexive interjections from Jonathan, and of course, he whipped out those unforgettable, Latino  / dad-at-disco moves.

This song has gotta be one of my all-time favourite Richman songs. Im just gutted he didn’t play Kookanagan

Here’s the latest batch of Music Musings and Miscellany’s unapologetically subjective selection of the twentieth century’s best 1000 singles. The end of the Rs.

MODERN LOVERS – Roadrunner Once / Roadrunner Twice (Beserkley 1 1977)
The rhythm’s straight out of the Neu motorik! handbook. The bass line is equally hypnotic. On top of it, Jonathan Richman’s vocal is almost a chant, with the chorus a primitive response of “Radio On”. It gives the song the sense of the monotony of night time freeway driving, with just the radio to break the tedium.

LONNIE DONEGAN – Rock Island Line / John Henry (Decca 10647 1955)
The UK skiffle boom started with Lonnie Donegan, Beryl Bryden and Chris Barber doing short sets of American folk-blues songs such as this one by Leadbelly during the interval at gigs by Barber’s jazz band. With Donegan singing and playing guitar, Bryden providing a washboard rhythm and Barber the stand-up bass, the blueprint for hundreds of skiffle combos was set.

DAVID BOWIE – Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide / Quicksand (RCA 5021 1974)
Cabaret singer Camille O’Sullivan does a superb version of this at her live shows, with the accent on the Brel like melodrama of the song. Chuck in Mick Ronson’s sinister guitar climax and you have one of Bowie’s best songs of the Ziggy era.

BUFFALO SPRINGFIELD – Rock ‘n’ Roll Woman / A Child’s Claim to Fame (Atco 6519 1967)
Despite the rock cliché title, this is one of Stephen Stills’ best tunes, with the harmonies a kind of trial run for those that made CSN superstars.

JACKIE BRENSTON – Rocket 88 / Come Back Where You Belong (Chess 1458 1951)
A classic rock ‘n’ roll record. The first rock ‘n’ roll record? Many claim so, but it’s a pointless debate. No one record was beamed in from the future to provide a rock year zero. It’s a debate about something that has no answer.

HERBIE HANCOCK – Rockit / version (Columbia 4054 1983)
Jazz purists like to snort haughtily at Herbie Hancock’s excursions into the mainstream, but he’s always managed to incorporate things like funk, disco and in this case electro without coming across as a tourist or a bandwagon jumper. This isn’t jazz. Even so, Hancock’s playing still retains a definite jazz-like looseness even on something as stripped down and robotic as this.

REM – (Don’t Go Back to) Rockville / Catapult (IRS 9931 1984)
“Rockville” was REM’s most straightforward statement up to that point – a sixties soaked country-rock tune with a singalong chorus. It could almost have been a Monkees tune.

BARRY ANDREWS – Rossmore Road / Win a Night Out With a Well Known Paranoiac (Virgin 378 1980)
A genuine cult record. Not widely known at all, but generally loved by those who do know it. Andrews was the keyboard player with XTC, and “Rossmore Road” was a lush, melancholy hymn to the eponymous suburban street. The B side is a cracked, rambling semi-jazz thing along the lines of Joni’s “Twisted”

THELONIOUS MONK QUINTET – Round About Midnight / Well You Needn’t (Blue Note 543 1947)
In my mind, the finest tune to come out of the bop era, and much covered. The melody is fairly simple, romantic and wistfully nocturnal, despite some quite unusual chords. It’s been covered a zillion times (Robert Wyatt’s is the best), but nothing has the same evocative noir-ish atmosphere as this 1947 recording.

THE FALL – Rowche Rumble / In My Area (Step Forward 11 1979)
Amazing to think that thirty years on, the Fall are still making great records. Powered by a tinny organ riff and tribal drums, this invective against Big Pharma (as no one called it then) still sounds as fresh and exciting as the day it came out.

DR FEELGOOD – Roxette / Route 66 (United Artists 35760 1974)
THE SPINNERS – The Rubberband Man / Now That We’re Together (Atlantic 3355 1976)
LINK WRAY – Rumble / The Swag (Cadence 1347 1958)
So many songs on this list are built upon an outstanding, but simple bass line. These three very different tunes are all examples of that. “Roxette”, the Feelgoods’ finest three minutes, has a punishing three note bass riff over which Wilko Johnson provides a clipped guitar harmony. Add Lee Brilleaux’s growling, angry vocal, and you have a menacing tale of the adulterer caught red-handed. The Spinners didn’t enter the disco era with generic pap like so many of their peers, but came up with this beauty kept afloat by a boinging rubber bass that has the same in your face repetition as Giorgio Moroder’s synth riffs. On top, the harmonies were as lush as ever. Link Wray’s “Rumble” is a prowling beast that almost plods along on a slow walking bass line that gives the guitarist free reign to sketch the most primitive of melodies with a series of thrashed chords. It’s dirty, sullen and delinquent – the perfect rock record.

DEL SHANNON – Runaway / Jody (Big Top 3067 1961)
Conventional rock history will have you believe that pop music was all bland and sugary between 1958, when the original rock & roll era burned itself out and 1963 when the Beatles arrived on their white chargers to save it. Piffle. Link Wray, Johnny Kidd, the Wailers, Sandy Nelson and countless others kept the primitive rock flame alive during this period while Motown, Stax and southern soul were blossoming. Even mainstream pop acts like Del Shannon were coming up with records that were as sonically adventurous as they were catchy. “Runaway” has a great proto-synth break, a great chorus and a futuristic, effects-laden production. It’s far more forward-looking than anything the Beatles managed until 1965.

SLY & THE FAMILY STONE – Runnin’ Away / Brave and Strong (Epic 10829 1972)
I’ve said it before in these pages, but I find There’s a Riot Goin’ On close to unlistenable. The tunes are fine, but the production is muffled and worn with all the dynamics squeezed out of it. “Runnin’ Away” emerges more or less unscathed, mainly because it’s quite a downbeat, introspective tune to begin with.

ROY ORBISON – Running Scared / Love Hurts (Monument 438 1961)
The Big O’s bolero. Da-da-da-daah, da-da-da-daah goes the rhythm. Tango? Not sure, but it lays a dramatic foundation for Orbison to build on with one of his typically grandiose, emotionally raw melodramas.

KATE BUSH – Running Up That Hill / Under the Ivy (EMI KATE1 1985)
I’m not a huge Kate Bush fan. It’s not her voice, which many people find irritating, but her tendency to over-produce and over-complicate things. That said, there’s no getting away from the fact that this track is an absolute marvel. The production is as dense as they come, but it all fits together to give it a real sense of propulsion. And the song glides brilliantly over the top (in all senses of the phrase). A stunning achievement.

More soon

An especially quick review, because I have so little to say: Richman (vocals, guitar and bells) was joyous and lovely, Tommy (drummer) TORE it up frequently, the audience, especially yours truly, went mad.  Setlist in the comments.

Well I was dancing at a night club one Friday night
And that night club bar was a little uptight
Yeah, I was dancing all alone a little self conscious
When some kids came up and said, “for dancing come with us.”
And soon…

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

Well I was dancing in the lesbian bar
In the industrial zone.
I was dancing with my friends
And dancing alone.
Well the first bar things were alright
But in this bar, things were Friday night.
In the first bar things were just alright.
This bar things were Friday night.

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

Well I was dancing in the lesbian bar
Way downtown
I was there to check the scene
And hang around
Well the first bar things were stop and stare
But in this bar things were laissez faire
In the first bar things were stop and stare
In this bar things were lassez faire.

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

In the first bar folks were drinking sips
But in this bar they could shake their hips,
In the first bar they were drinking sips
In this bar they could shake their hips.

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

(Guitar)

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

Well in the first bar, things were okay
But in this bar things were more my way
In the first bar things were just okay
But in this bar things were done my way.

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

Well in the first bar things were controlled
But in this bar things were Rock and Roll
In the first bar things were so controlled
In this bar things were way way bold.

I was dancing in a lesbian bar.
I was dancing in a lesbian bar.

“i was dancing in the lesbian bar” – jonathan richman

jonathan richman, infelizmente, pertence àquela categoria de “gênios esquecidos pela mídia”. mas aqui ele é sempre favorito.

Fool’s Gold* – Surprise Hotel

* mais sobre esses caras muito em breve.

Jonathan Richman & Modern Lovers – Egyptian Reggae

Listen (to download, ctrl click and ’save target as’)

I Think We’re Alone Now – Lene Lovich
Green Door – The Cramps
I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar – Jonathan Richman
Prove It on Me – Ma Rainey
Young Guns – Wham
Theme for Alan Mathison Turing – White Town
Girls and Boys – Blur
Lola – The Kinks
Michael – Franz Ferdinand
Mad About the Boy – Dinah Washington
Jailhouse Rock – Elvis
This Charming Man – The Smiths
It’s My Party – Bryan Ferry
Gloria – Patti Smith
Judy and the Dream of Horses – Belle and Sebastien
A Postcard to nina – Jens Lekman
Homosapien – Pete Shelley

We’ll be back tomorrow to talk about Sunday night’s awesome Mad Men season finale (and hopefully August will be able to join me after he figures out some technical issues), but I can tell you right now that we loved it. It was a lovely episode, a gorgeous play on our expectations as only Mad Men can pull off and an episode in which, as I teased all my west coast friends who wouldn’t see the episode until two hours after me, “everyone gets exactly what they want.”

Thinking about certain elements of the ending got me thinking about this past season of the show in general, and in particular, the season premiere, “Out Of Town,” and the then latest acquisition to Bert Cooper’s eccentric collection of art: Hokusai Katsushika’s (best known for The Great Wave Off Kanagawa, see above) 1820 erotic painting, The Dream Of The Fisherman’s Wife, or also known as Diving Girl With Octopus. See:

Well, actually that came up because I also noticed that the Picasso museum in Barcelona is doing a special exhibition “Secret Images” talking about some of Pablo’s favorite bits of erotic Japanese art. We’ll be back tomorrow, but that’s just something to think about for tonight to hold you over: Mad Men. Erotic Japanese art. Young women committing sex acts with creatures of the deep. And Pablo Picasso, who, of course, was never called an asshole…

Our girl, Marissa, finally posted her video of one of our favorite Jonathan Richman songs “My Baby Love Love Loves Me” when he played San Francisco last month.

Also check out Marissa’s Box Elders video from Oakland’s Stork Club show.