It used to go like that, but now it goes like this.

(photo by Tom Vincent)

I was having a discussion with my friend Jessica over dinner tonight, before seeing Built to Spill at the Metro. We were talking about cover songs, and how getting a live version of a cover on a mix CD is definitely not as cool or interesting as getting a studio version. (Jessica also has a strange personal rule of only having one cover song on any mix she makes, but it's probably no weirder than my personal rule about putting no song longer than 6 minutes on at the jukebox -- unless it's "Why Can't I Touch It?" by the Buzzcocks.)

She had a good point though. Any asshole can toss off a cover song in a live setting; any crappy punk band can do the formulaic "ironi-punk" cover of a song by speeding it up a little and steamrolling over all subtlety. There's just something more special, whether the song is good or bad, of a studio-recorded cover. Plus, you never know when a band you hate might pull off a cover you can respect.

Anyway, I didn't mean to pontificate so much. What I'm trying to say is: Here, have a couple of cover songs tonight.

"Suddenly Everything Has Changed" by THE POSTAL SERVICE: Back when I was trying to introduce some new music into my roommate's computer, I had added the debut album from these guys but wasn't sure how they'd take to the electrotweeness of it all. This cover of the Flaming Lips cut from "THE SOFT BULLETIN" was the spoonful of sugar that may have helped the medicine go down. The interesting use of one of their songs in the GARDEN STATE trailer didn't hurt, either.

"Seven Nation Army" by THE FLAMING LIPS: One of my fondest Chicago music memories will always be catching the double billing of The Lips with the White Stripes on New Year's at the Aragon Ballroom. I stood out in the freezing cold weather for hours to ensure that I had one of those sweet ass balcony booths, and I was never more thankful for that seat when midnight came and the two bands joined together to perform a joyous, explosive version of that Jack White song. This studio version is a different beast entirely, but somehow just as much fun as that concert. I recently read a review that said Wayne Coyne sounds like your grandmother here. I'd amend that to read "Your HILARIOUS grandmother."

"Give Me Some Money" by the GORIES: Here this sloppy Detroid garage band, lead by future DIRTBOMBS singer Mick Collins, puts a little motor city sludge into a cover of a song from the comedy masterpiece "SPINAL TAP." Take it as seriously as you think you should take the preceeding sentence.

"Seconds" by ROGUE WAVE: This cover of the "WAR"-era U2 song comes from the recently released "EXHUMED AND REGROOMED" EP, which includes this track and 5 new versions of tracks from the band's debut album. I love me some old U2.

AIMEE MANN, I want to make out with you so much.

After considering my words regarding Joan Jett the other day, I started thinking about a few of the other female musicians I've had crushes on. The list isn't all that long, so please don't take me for a groupie. I'd go gay for Joan Jett. I'm pretty sure my little crush on the Distillers' Brody Dalle has something to do with that former crush. I'd let Cat Power's Chan Marshall go all crazy apeshit on me, as I'm sure only she can.

But Aimee Man... I'd marry Aimee Mann. I would make Aimee Mann tea for breakfast every morning. I would sit and listen to her talk and nod and smile and marvel at how much smarter she is than me. And I'd be perfectly happy with that.

If you don't know who Aimee Mann is, you may still know who she is... She was in a band from Boston called 'Til Tuesday, and they were famous for a hit called "Voices Carry." (One of their minor hits that I've always liked is "Coming Up Close." You can definitely feel the 80s in there, but it's still a great vocal.) I remember being strangely attracted to her back then. She looked like a vampire... big eyes and this freaky white hair, and serious as a heart attack. Some guys out there will get this one: she's Martha Plimpton hot... not conventionally beautiful but like a girl you meet at a party and you just know she's cool as shit and has a great book and record collection back home. Plus, it's no secret -- I love a girl with a guitar.

After 'Til Tuesday disbanded, she embarked on a solo career and experienced something that will always attract me to a musician: record label hell. She fought for, and bought back, the masters to her third solo album and sold them through her own label. That album is the now classic BACHELOR No. 2. Paul Thomas Anderson used her music as the basis for "Magnolia," and Mann was nominated for an Academy Award.

I have to admit, I slept for a while on her last album, LOST IN SPACE. Looking back on it, I was a fool. It's a little on the dark, slower side, but the production is stellar, sounding like some kind of mash of Radiohead and Bob Dylan. I've already posted "This is How it Goes" on this site, but you should really check it out if you didn't grab it last time. As someone who has known a drug addict or two, I think it's a pretty accurate summary of the helpless feeling you get when someone's addiction is way more powerful than anything you have to offer.

"So I'll try to hold on
while you try to let go.
You won't tell me it's gone
but baby, I'll know.
Baby, I'll know."

And just who in the hell is her lead guitar player?! Damn good, that's who. His or her work on "Guys Like Me" (from the same album) is nimble and soulful. I like a guitar solo that doesn't call too much attention to itself as some sort of noodly showoff moment, and the one in this song does just that. (I also recommend checking out "High On Sunday 51," from your local download shoppe.)

Her new album, THE FORGOTTEN ARM, just came out and it's a step in a more... well, not so much "upbeat," but maybe a little more uptempo direction. It's mature and thoughtful, with a ton of great lyrics that tell the story of a boxer and his love as they flee to the coast (or something... come on, I've only heard the thing twice). Check out:

"Dear John"
"That's How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart"

Of course, all this fawning is pointless. She's got Micheal Penn, and I guess she'll just have to settle for him in this lifetime over me. At least in this divorce, I get to keep the music.


FOR MORE ON AIMEE MANN:

Stream The Forgotten Arm from her website. Check out the lyrics, too.
The main page there.
Aimee Mann in print.
For the musicians out there, Aimee Mann tablature

JEFF TWEEDY @ The Vic Theater

I just don't have the brain on to write anything tonight. Luckily for me, a Pimp named Nick sent me a burn (gratis, no less!) of a solo show from Wilco's Jeff Tweedy at The Vic Theater in Chicago. I'll try to let this stuff speak for itself.

The show took place on March 3, 2005 -- mere blocks from my apartment -- but I was just too broke to get tickets. It wasn't until a Yo La Tengo show a few weeks later that I'd finally get to see a show at The Vic. Hell of a place to see a show. Get there early and sit in the balcony like a god.

Since a lot of the first disc is riddled with static, I'm just featuring tracks from the encore. Luckily, an encore at a Tweedy show is typically just as long as the set. Actually, I just looked at the setlist and it is exactly that: 17 songs for the set, 17 songs for the encore (which included a bunch of Uncle Tupelo songs, along with two Dylan covers and a Randy Newman song).

Here's that part of the setlist, with a few links to tracks for your enjoyment:

Tweedy Encores -- The Vic Theater -- 3/5/05

1. Gun
2. We've Been Had
3. Candyfloss
4. Henry & the H Bombs
5. Acuff Rose
6. I'm the Man Who Loves You
--
7. Misunderstood
--
8. Laminated Cat (w/Glenn, Wilco's drummer)
9. The Family Gardener (w/Glenn, Pat, Mike and Pat from Wilco) This song, co-written by Scott McCaughey, is from the MINUS 5 album "Down With Wilco." Love the lyrics on this one; they remind me of The Kinks:

The family garden is a special place
In sun and shade there, I was raised
But voices fade away and rooms are rearranged
Now I'm the family gardener

You need a stethoscope and a good good rake
Some beer for snails and a rope for snakes
A flowerbed to fall in as the moonlight breaks
When you're the family gardener
And I'm the family gardener

As I look down with my two eyes and my two green thumbs
I despise the people who walk on the green green grass
I grew with my watered love

Now some other son sleeps in the southern wing
And someone else's mother sits to paint the pastoral scene
My father always said that I would never amount to anything
But I'm the family gardener
I'm the family gardener

10. How to Fight Loneliness (rest of songs feature all of Wilco minus Nels)
11. John Wesley Harding
12. Political Science
13. Hummingbird
14. The Late Greats
---
15. Passenger Side
16. California Stars
17. I Shall be Released

I can't believed I've lived in Chicago for two and a half years and never had a public Tweedy sighting. Saw John plenty of times... but no Tweedy. My life is incomplete.

RADIOHEAD: All these weird creatures who lock up their spirits

It's a new month over here at 'Pimps (I will also accept "Po' Gore" as a nickname), so that means I have a clean slate of bandwidth with those mad bastards over at Taco Robot. I must note it was the Tofu Hut that really brought in all the traffic at the beginning of the month, and not my own inane ramblings. This month I'm hoping maybe CNN.com will drop my addy in some article and really cripple me.

Until that day, here's another big old chunk of Radiohead b-sides... just a chip off of a huge, enjoyable block you can find on various EPs and singles out there. If you eventually burn these tracks to a CD, the next songs would represent tracks 7 through 12. I've actually tried to consider how the tracks are arranged on this hypothetical "album," but feel free to scramble them up any way you choose.

I Am a Wicked Child: A Radiohead Compilation

7. "The Amazing Sounds of Orgy": So fucking creepy. I'd love to make the three-minute horror movie that should go with this song. The opening verse and the refrain ("I want to see your smile again" and "So glad you're mine," respectively) juxtapose sentimentality against ominous lyrics like "The amazing sounds of the killing hordes / the day the banks collapsed on us." Hey, you've got spiders crawling all over you.

8. "Paperbag Writer": The creepy vibe remains here on this outtake from the HAIL TO THE THIEF sessions (released on the "There There" single), but shit gets FONKY... as fonky as it can get when it comes to England, really. Clock the bassline that enters at the 1 minute mark, or the strings that seem to be playing both forwards and backwards. I honestly think Dr. Dre would be impressed with the production on this one. Now that's the hotnezz. The Beatles reference in the title and the druggy lyrics only make it sweeter.

9. "I Am Citizen Insane": This instrumental track closes out my Radiohead/electronica trilogy for the evening in beautiful style, with what could be mistaken for a collaboration between Aphex Twin and and Luke Vibert. To those of you out there who don't listen to any 'electronic' music and didn't just tune the fuck out after reading those two names, give this track a shot. If you're at work, put it on repeat and keep doing what you're doing. If you manage to lose yourself in the song, I think you'll understand what the fuss is about.

10. "How I Made My Millions": Lead singer Thom Yorke recorded this demo on a minidisc recorder at home. If you listen closely, you can hear his girlfriend doing the dishes in the background. If I were dating someone and heard something this crushing coming out of the next room, I think I would have to end the relationship and walk away in sad, talentless shame. By the way, how great are the song titles tonight?

11. "Subterranean Homesick Alien (acoustic) ": This early version of OK COMPUTER's thematic center is an acoustic performance from the RARE ON AIR series of albums (Vol. 4 also features live performances from Tom Waits, Jeff Buckley and more). Not only did OK COMPUTER and the album version of this track finally soften me to Radiohead, but the lyrics of this song made me actually want to be abducted by aliens. It's quite a feat that they manage to convey both the strangeness of what it's like to be human and how peculiar humans would seem to another intelligent life form. The passage where the narrator begs to be stolen "on board their beautiful ship, show me the world as I'd love to see it," always jumped out at me as a unique response to an alien abduction.

12. "Palo Alto": There's a riveting sequence in the Radiohead documentary MEETING PEOPLE IS EASY where Thom Yorke mixes this song on a lap-sized mixing board, while footage of people hustling and bustling their lives away in dreary cityscapes is intercut. Seeing that documentary made me begin to consider what attracted me most to the band: they write what are essentially folk songs about the death of the human soul. "No Surprises." "How to Disappear Completely." Even "Creep." They're all about the different levels of disconnect we all experience every day. How sanitized life can become, with everything pre-fabbed, everything cookie cut and similar to everything else. "Palo Alto" is named after a city in California -- the "City of the Future" -- that played a huge role in California's second gold rush: Silicon Valley, or the La Brea Tar Pit of technology.


FOR MORE ON TONIGHT'S RAMBLING:

The city of the future, Palo Alto
Listen to some Aphex Twin samples
Luke Vibert
Order your Radiohead singles

Psssst...

Sorry about the inactivity lately. It's entirely self imposed, and only because I'm about to reach the end of my bandwidth for the month and sadly can't afford the $2 for every 1GB I go over my percentage. Maybe when I'm making the big bucks. So please, rest assured that I haven't thrown in the towel. I'm actually dying to post more, but I'll have to wait a few more days.

Right now I'm taking down the Radiohead stuff, so if you see something there you absolutely must have, drop me an email to my profile addy and I'll see what I can do.

And for being patient with me, here's one more song to carry us out of April:


"Joan Jett of Arc" by CLEM SNIDE: Clem Snide (that's the name of the band, not a dude) have been around for years now, and just recently released a new record. "Joan Jett of Arc" is from two records prior, 2001's THE GHOST OF FASHION.

While these guys haven't exactly tasted fame and fortune (the NBC show "Ed" used one of their songs as its theme for a year or two), they most certainly deserved a taste with this album. So many good songs. If you find your way over to iTunes or eMusic, check out "Long Lost Twin," "Chinese Baby" or "Let's Explode." Once you get over lead singer Eef Barzelay's Kermit-the-Frog vocals (I personally have no problem with 'em), the record will just suck you right in.

Oddly, I didn't even stumble on this record because I was looking for Clem Snide. I was browsing through the iTunes music store one night and decided to see what Joan Jett songs they had available (not many). When I was growing up, I had a HUGE crush on Joan Jett. I was there for the start of MTV, and nothing captured my attention like Joan kicking around a bar in black leather in the "I Love Rock n' Roll" video. Ever since, I've had a little thing for punk rock chicks who could probably beat my ass. Of course, Joan turned out to be a lesbian. Such is my luck.

Anyway included in that iTunes search was tonight's song. I listened to the snippet and hit download before the 30 second sample had finished.

I challenge you to find a song that so expertly balances equal parts sadness, longing and sexual innuendo. Seriously, this is the filthiest sad song I may have ever heard. From what I can tell, it's the story of a guy fondly remembering his first love, his "Joan Jett of Arc." Barzelay plays with words brilliantly here, evoking the time frame the story takes place in by including song and artist references in his innuendo.

"Take me down south, with Hall and Oates in her mouth." Hilarious. Of course, we don't know if she's humming Hall and Oates, or if that's the narrator's nickname for his private parts. But come on, you know what he's talking about. Other references include Joan Jett herself ("My black heart was heavy" = Jett's backing band, The Blackhearts), John "Couger" Mellencamp ("her mom's Couger was fast, as little pink houses were whistled") and the song's ending, which is - to my ears - a nod to that quiet verse near the end of Don McLean's "American Pie."

I'll forgive the guy for making a verbal quip out of my first love's name while trying to honor his own first love. You're lucky it's a great song, you bastard.

Making tracks.

Sometimes I think maybe I've met too many good people.

I've always been a somewhat hesitant misanthrope. On paper, the human race is just a big fucking mess, isn't it? One gigantic, untrustworthy fleshy mass of psychosis with a behavioral ineptitude that would rival any rabid pack of hyenas. To quote one of my favorite Mr. Show skits, "What a collection of assholes."

A small part of me has always relished the though of disappearing. Just cashing in my chips and going off to some beach or some island somewhere. I think about the dust-bowlers or guys like Woody Guthrie, hopping trains whenever things got too familiar. Or I'll wonder what it was like for the first settlers in this country to fill a wagon with everything they could fit and wander out into a wilderness like we'll never be able to comprehend.

Sometimes I wonder if I could pull off something like that, but then I remember all those goddamned good people who I've befriended over the years and know I could never do it. That's right, my friends and family are standing in the way of my perfect hobo's life.

After a lot of stressful inner debate, I've made the decision to leave Chicago at the end of next month. The details aren't all that important... I'm just looking to start a career in nursing (see what I mean about the hesitant misanthrope?) and this town isn't the cheapest place to get it done. I've only been here for about two and a half years, but I've fallen in love with this city and it's going to be hard to leave. I still haven't gotten over leaving the East Coast, my family and friends behind, and now I get to do it all over again.

I'm posting only one song tonight, and it's one that is always at the top of my mind when it comes time to say goodbye to the people I love:


"I Was Young When I Left Home" by BOB DYLAN

Back when I lived in Philadelphia and Delaware, I played a show every few months at the coffeeshop where I worked. If it hadn't been for the constant pushing of my friend James out there, I probably never would have bothered breaking out my guitar. (I certainly haven't done it here in Chicago. Overstimulation's a bitch.) Anyway, I played this song once or twice, but I remember playing it for my last show in town before I moved. As I practiced for the week or two before the show, the lyrics got me to the point where I couldn't play it without crying.

"It was just the other day,
I was bringing home my pay
when I met an old friend I used to know.
Said your mother's dead and gone,
baby sister's all gone wrong
and your daddy needs you home right away.

Not a shirt on my back,
not a penny on my name.
But I can't go home thisaway.
Thisaway, lord lord lord.
And I can't go home thisaway."

Bob recorded that in a hotel room on December 22, 1962, and the above two verses do a better job of explaining my dilemma more than my preceeding six paragraphs. I want to live everywhere and see everything, and there's a price to pay for that in the form of that enormous lack I will have in my heart when I think about my nephews, my parents... and dammit, James. I miss bowling with my brother. I'll miss sitting in my apartment with my roommates and listening to all of this music that means so much to us.

I wish I could stay. There's just too many good people out there.