Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Earworm: Volcano Girls

I was hoping to save this up for a special occasion, but screw it. Earworms are really hard to come by this week. I'll take the cheap route and go with Veruca Salt this time. I'm breaking out the big guns with today's story.

The following story is true, but years of telling and retelling it have gotten more and more intricate. I'll boil it down to its purest essence.

I adore Veruca Salt's first two albums. They're filled with hazy memories of times that went by far too quickly. The end of high school and the beginning of college were a blur of life alternating between fun and pure misery. I like my memories that way. It makes life seem a little more magical.

Veruca Salt's Eight Arms to Hold You is my last great memory from my sophomore year of college. When the album came out, I had stopped concentrating on my studies and focused on having a good time. Oddly enough, that didn't involve the typical college experience of drinking and drugs. Instead, I got into writing record reviews for the school newspaper. I was all over that paper during my final semester, splitting my time between it and the reorganization of the college-radio station. I was never happier. I got to do what I loved, focus on music and not go to class. Looking back, I really should have gone to class. Stay in school, kids!

"Volcano Girls" was the lead single from Eight Arms to Hold You, and it was the greatest thing that I had heard in ages. I was at the point where just because something was new didn't mean that it was good. The whole album was great, however, and I gave it a glowing review.

A few weeks later, Veruca Salt as the opening support for post-grunge, alt-rock heroes Bush. I hate them. Every song sounds the same except for "Glycerine." That one I like.

But I digress. My editor came to me with the opportunity to go backstage and meet the bands. I jumped at the chance, having never done anything like that before. Plus I had a huge crush on Louise Post. We arrived at the show, got our press passes and headed to the green room. The rider for Veruca Salt must have been pretty simple. I remember there being lots of pretzels and Rolling Rock. Knowing that I would be starstruck, I brought my promo copy of the album and had everyone sign it. I was in heaven.

After intermission was over, none of us particularly cared to watch the headliners, so we stayed backstage in the girls' dressing room. I don't recall whose idea it was, but at some point the four of us all went to the other side of the arena to wish Bush luck as they went onstage. Everyone came out except for Gavin Rossdale. He was nowhere to be seen. Finally, after about five minutes of everyone else being on stage, Gavin stumbled through the door and headed toward the stage. I don't know what he was on, but he took a severe turn, running straight into me. At that point, he reared back and shoved me into the wall, telling me to watch where I was going. There was nothing sober about that moment. Drunken, British accents are still charming though, so I couldn't stay mad at my new arch-nemesis for long. The show was terrible as expected, and I had a story to tell the grandkids.

Of course, if I could do it all over again, I would have stuck with my studies. It was hard finishing college right before I turned 30, but at least I did it. I missed out on some great experiences, but I also learned some important life lessons and everything that I went through made me who I am today.

Listen to this. I have gone from telling one of my favorite stories to sounding like a motivational speaker hired by a school's guidance counselor. Luckily I woke up in time to not live in a van down by the river. Give a hoot, don't pollute. Only you can prevent forest fires.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Earworm: Rock of Ages

I'm running on fumes today with no inspiration whatsoever. My mind was completely devoid of music upon waking up. The "Rock of Ages" video by Def Leppard was on VH1 Classic when I turned on the television. I'll take it.

Hey! There aren't any Def Leppard songs in iTunes or Amazon's MP3 store! That can't be due to any sort of artistic integrity, can it? I don't feel like looking up the reasoning behind that right now.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Earworm: Why Can't I

I love internet radio. Pandora introduced me to its technological joys, but recently I have switched over to using Slacker instead. Their music selection just seems to be better, and I skip songs far less frequently.

Yesterday I had Slacker create a station based on Veruca Salt. They are sure to be the subject of an earworm at a later date. It started off with "Seether," but the next song was one that I hadn't heard in several years. "Why Can't I," From Liz Phair's 2003's terrible comeback album Liz Phair was the only tolerable song on the whole thing, but I really hated it at the time. It destroyed absolutely everything that I respected about her in the past. The production was too slick, the lyrics were cheesy, and it was co-written by the Matrix, the ultimate in pop-radio hitmakers. While the rest of the album still makes me want to drive a railroad spike through my skull, surprisingly "Why Can't I" has aged well. It mixed in well with the rest of the girl groups that dominated my Slacker station.

Usually when a song like that comes on, it makes me reminisce about the artist's older work, and I will dive into the back catalog once again. Not this time though. I won't post it here, but only look up "H.W.C," another song from Liz Phair, if you don't want to sleep soundly for the next few weeks. Seriously. There's no coming back from that.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Earworm: Girls and Boys

I don't get Good Charlotte. The music is terrible, the guys come across as complete poseurs, and the band bridged a gap between hip-hop, punk and pop that really didn't need to be introduced to the mainstream.

The real problem though? They know how to write an earworm like it's nobody's business. I like several of their singles. Not love, mind you, but like. It's more than a basic tolerance.

Luckily, they haven't put out an album in a while, so I have managed to escape their song-stylings for quite some time, aside from when I pick up my copy of Elite Beat Agents for the Nintendo DS. That song is "The Anthem," covered by a sound-alike for the game. Great. Now I'm going to get that one stuck in my head. Hopefully I won't be writing about Good Charlotte two days in a row. I don't think they would make for a very good muse.

No, today's song is "Girls and Boys," the third single from Good Charlotte's second album, The Young and the Hopeless. Someone quoted it at work last night, and that's all it took to have it bore its way into my skull and liquefy my brains.

Crap, Wikipedia tells me that Good Charlotte have a new album coming out in November. I'm assuming that after having only one decent song on their last album that they'll be pulling it together to wage warfare on my mind. This is going to be a long, poppy, autotuned winter.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Earworm: Whole Lotta Love

First the Doors, and now Led Zeppelin. I'm not doing very well with classic-rock bands that people adore. I never understood the appeal. I like a handful of Zep songs, but not enough to fill more than a greatest-hits album. "Whole Lotta Love" is one of the few that I do love. Robert Plant is one of the gods of vocal rock, even if can only take his yowling in small doses.

I tried really hard to get into them though. Tori Amos always talked about how much she loved them in her live shows, and every time I would come home after one I would crank up the stereo until my head was numb.

Unlike the Doors, I do think that Led Zeppelin is an important band. Current, good music wouldn't be the same without them.

Pure earworms are few and far between these days, after doing this every day for the past three months. This is one of them. I haven't heard the song in years. It popped into my head randomly, although I do have a strong memory of it. I was looking through an old middle-school yearbook last night and the memories came flooding back. A friend and I performed "Whole Lotta Love"--on kazoos--in the seventh grade. Neither of us knew the song, and picked it up from his parents' record collection. We just kept kazooing the main bass-line over and over, never knowing when to leave the stage. I think we wore trench coats and wigs too.

My yearbook was full of "Geoff, you're a weird kid"-type messages. I'll let that freak flag fly.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Earworm: Walking on Broken Glass

I woke up today without a song running through my head. The tragedy! My wife had left the television on in the living room, and some special on the career of Hugh Laurie was on. They said that he was in the video for "Walking on Broken Glass" by Annie Lennox. I used to own the Diva album once upon a time. This was before I really comprehended the Eurythmics. There we go. That'll have to do. My motivation is tapped out for the moment.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Earworm: 100 Ways to Love a Cat

Oh. My. Gawd. I'm not sure how I did it, but I managed to make it through 40 of the loving ways to love a cat. I can't take it any longer. This video is 35 minutes of cat-loving ways, and has already broken my will completely. I fear that my time here is short. Tell my wife I love her.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Earworm: Crazy

I'm up early today. Hooray for seeing a decent chunk of daylight for once!

It's rare that a song comes across as instantly timeless upon release these days. Usually it's something like Outkast's "Hey Ya," which plays constantly to the point of absolute love, then boredom, then hatred and back to love a few years later. That isn't the case with "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. I never got sick of it. Maybe it's Cee-Lo Green's voice or Danger Mouse's production, but it was an instant classic upon release.

Sadly, none of the rest of their songs has had the same impact for me. I absolutely hated their cover of "Gone Daddy Gone" by the Violent Femmes, and as much as I tried, I simply did not care about any of the rest of the songs on either one of their albums.

What I am excited for is Cee-Lo's new album. If the single "Fuck You" is indicative of the rest of the album, I'm going to be very, very happy.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Earworm: On Our Own

Part three! Well, not really. Today's earworm is another movie song, but not from a movie that my parents cared if I saw or not. It's "On Our Own," the theme from Ghostbusters II. I don't have the energy to write anything substantial today, so here are some random thoughts:

I really envy Bobby Brown's hair and clothes. That man had style in the late '80s. I was very pale, had hair like Zack Morris and couldn't dance to save my life.

When did movie songs stop describing the plot of their parent films? That's a trend that needs to return with a quickness.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Earworm: When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going

Hey, it's a two-parter! I knew this would happen. Yesterday's "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" post brought another movie song to the top of my mind, and for the same reason. I threw a temper tantrum when my parents kicked me out of the room during the stripping scene at the beginning of Romancing the Stone. I find it funny that they never had any problem with the violence, but sex? That was something that no child should ever see. Sheesh.

So today's earworm is actually from the sequel. Due to the aformentioned temper tantrum, I never saw Romancing the Stone until I was well into my 20s, but my parents still took me to the theater to see The Jewel of the Nile. I remember loving it, but watching it years later back-to-back with Romancing the Stone left a lot to be desired. My wife loves both movies though, and the music video for "When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going" by Billy Ocean is pretty fun. Danny DeVito always made me laugh and Billy Ocean's vocals generally put me in a good mood.

Wow, this has been a week filled with childhood memories and stories about my parents. They're going to want royalties soon.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Earworm: Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

The family VCR was a great equalizer in the 1980s. We would pile in my parent's tiny Toyota Corolla hatchback and drive to the video store in the middle of winter. Everyone was warm, and everyone was happy. I would always beg my parents to let me rent whatever horror movie caught my eye at the time, but would come home with a kid-friendly Disney movie instead. They were too smart for me.

Still, I was allowed to stay up and watch whatever movie they had picked out on a fairly regular basis. I only remember a few of those movies vividly, mostly because my parents suddenly found them to be inappropriate for my young eyes at some point during the screening. One of them was Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I have since seen the film a few times as an adult, but will forever remember two parts. One was the bicycle scene while "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" played, and the other was when Robert Redford made his girlfriend strip down at gunpoint. That's when my parents kicked me out of the room and I proceeded to throw a temper tantrum, refusing to watch the rest of the movie.

Sadly, I have never really been able to appreciate the film since then. I understand that a lot of people love it, but for me it's too slow paced, and those scenes never quite live up to the memories that I have made of them.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Earworm: Rhythm Is Gonna Get You

You are powerless. It's coming for you. There is no denying it. There is no point in fighting it, as resistance is futile. It is going to get you no matter what you do.

I don't know what it is about "Rhythm Is Gonna Get You" by Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine, but it will find its way into my head every few years and won't let go. There's just something about the way it just gives its mission statement right up front that sucks me in every time. It's incredibly poppy, but has a darker edge that is lying just below the surface.

For some reason, right now it brings to mind thoughts of serial killers on hot summer nights, kind of like the whole Son of Sam thing that happened in New York City in the mid 1970s. I imagine someone stealing children whenever the tornado sirens would go off in Minneapolis. Of course, this never actually happened, but we did have a creepy hermit of a neighbor that my best friend and would tell stories about. He was our very own neighborhood bogeyman, and he scared the living daylights out of us.

I miss tornado weather. There was just that dead air in the neighborhood, when everything would get a little dimmer and seem pretty surreal while we waited for the sirens to blare. I remember the air as seeming somehow thicker with anticipation. The colors were washed out and almost sepia-toned in nature, like we were living in an old movie.

At some point that all went away. The vivid days of my childhood started blurring together as time went by faster. I guess that's how it goes for everyone, but I keep looking back on those times, hoping to catch a glimpse of when I was afraid that the rhythm was hiding around every corner and it was just a matter of time until it did get me. It's still coming though. I can feel it.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Earworm: I Touch Myself

Picture this: You're 15 years old, and your mother drives you to an appointment at the doctor's office. Afterward, she agrees to stop by a record store to let you get a new album. The most exciting new song that you're hearing on the radio is "I Touch Myself" by the Divinyls. Your mother is a guidance counselor at a high school, and has forbidden you from listening to stuff that she sees the kids that come her way listening to, but is pretty oblivious to bands that she hasn't heard. There isn't a warning label on the Divinyls cassette. Even if there was, she got you that Pop Will Eat Itself cassette in the sixth or seventh grade without too much of an argument, so you think you're in the clear. That's when it happens: The girl behind the counter tells her that the music you're carrying isn't appropriate for a 15-year-old boy. She listens and thus becomes the recipient of a teenage grudge.

Now let's say that it's nearly 20 years later and you still have that memory. You know that the album in question isn't particularly good aside from that lone single, but you still feel like your life would have been a little bit cooler if you had just gotten that one tape under the radar. Still, she did buy you your first Nine Inch Nails CD for Christmas when you were 16. That was pretty cool. Thanks mom.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Earworm: Every Day Is Halloween

Ministry! I adore Ministry, from their early stuff through Psalm 69. Usually "Every Day Is Halloween" starts running through my head on September evenings, when the weather starts to cool off and I can walk around the neighborhood at night without sweating like a pig.

I was never really a part of the scene, but I loved going to the Minneapolis goth bars in the fall. This one played every night, and I would dance and dance and dance the night away.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Earworm: Wannabe

I'm stretching here. My mind is completely blank and I had to concentrate really hard to get something, anything to pop into my head that was worth writing about. I'm a trooper though, and I have to keep this up for my millions of adoring fans. Motivation is hard to come at the moment.

Finally, something pops into my head. First it is just a glimmer, then a little more, then zig-a-zig-ahh, it's the Spice Girls. "Wannabe" blasted from every dorm room during my sophomore year of college, and it drove me nuts. Why the guys in the hall couldn't just have the TV muted was beyond me. So it scratched at my door, begging me to let it in. I fought its advances, but five attractive women singing about how if a guy wanted to sleep with one of them, he had to take them all on at once? That was too much pressure. I finally relented, looking forward to each video with baited breath. I was just a part of the mindless masses, and it killed me a little inside every day.

It seemed like it lasted forever, but Spicemania really only took a couple years to blow over. I guess red-blooded males all over the world finally realized that chorus wasn't actually about getting it on with all five at the same time, but that a lady wishes for a gentleman to seek approval from her cohorts in order to make headway in the courting process. If only they had said that from the beginning, a lot of ears would have been saved.


Monday, August 16, 2010

Earworm: Snorks

Underwater Smurfs. That's all I really remember about the Snorks, and cannot recall the plot of a single episode. I do remember watching it early one morning while waiting for my dad to finish getting ready to go to a funeral for a relative whom I had never met. I also remember dancing like Michael Jackson and playing Pole Position at my cousin's house afterward. I was really bad at both.

The Snorks theme song gets stuck in my head from time to time. I may not remember much of the show, but the theme song will never die. Sometimes I wish it would.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Earworm: Fishin' in the Dark

When I was in school, there were certain country songs at school dances that everyone knew except for me. I couldn't stand the music, believing that modern, mainstream country deserved its own special place in music hell. As I have gotten older, I have come to appreciate some of the crowd pleasers as generally well-written, fun songs that transcend genres. Well, it's either that or everyone is generally drunk enough to be happy listening to almost anything.

I first started appreciating some country music when I worked as a bartender in the western-themed restaurant at the Mall of America. There was a husband-and-wife duo that played live on the stage, and when they found out that I was a big choir nerd in high school they took every chance they could to pull me up on stage and make me sing with them. The only trouble was that I didn't know a single one of the songs. They took the opportunity to teach me the wicked ways of their craft and then left to work on a cruiseliner. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't know songs like "Fishin' in the Dark" by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band like the back of my hand. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing, but anything that expanded my musical horizons beyond listening to nothing but Nine Inch Nails and Tori Amos had to be a blessing in disguise, right?

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Earworm: I Write Sins Not Tragedies

I feel really old sometimes. "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" is already five years old. It made me feel old then and it makes me feel old now. The Panic! At the Disco singer is 11 years younger than me and has a few hit singles under his belt. I probably never will, given that I have already given up on my rapping career. I keep thinking that these little kids keep making music when I am more than a decade older than them, but then I remember that I'm in my mid-early thirties and it's perfectly respectable to have a career already in your early twenties.

"I Write Sins Not Tragedies" was an interesting hybrid while emo was finding its footing in mainstream music. Panic! At the Disco seemed more influenced by Tears for Fears and the Beatles than their contemporaries who were rooted in every other band that sounded the same at that time. I seem to remember Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy signing them to the Decaydance label because he figured that he should be able to make money off of bands that sounded like his own. Why not? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and Panic! At the Disco inserted enough visual flair to come across as something fairly new and exciting, with or without the extraneous exclamation point.

Wow, finding a working video of this was a chore. Apparently the record label has taken it upon itself to remove most of the videos from the interwebs due to some sort of internation-copyright snafu. That's good marketing.


MySpace Video

Friday, August 13, 2010

Earworm: (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear

I was raised to not be an Elvis Presley fan. My mother couldn't stand him, and told me a story about when he signed a picture for her and she tore it up shortly after. Still, he has crept into my life little by little. I love most of his music now, and it's a wonder that one of his songs hasn't been an earworm up until now.

Of course, given that I was introduced to the music by commercials and not records, it's no wonder that it isn't actually the Elvis version of "(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear" that is today's earworm. Instead, it is the version used in commercials for Teddy Grahams® snacks. My parents always said that I would babble my way through television shows and get mad whenever anyone would talk during a commercial. It's how I got my pop-culture fix, and I think that I am a better human being for it overall.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Earworm: Wanna Be a Baller

This is another of the songs from my DJ days. I was sick of it before it even got requests. Keep in mind that this was Minneapolis before the internet made everything accessible to everyone everywhere at once. New music traveled in a spiral, making its way around the country and finally ending with us. By the time something hit pop radio, and thus my clientele's ears, it was already played out everywhere else in the country. I tried playing "Wanna Be a Baller" by Lil' Troy a few times before it blew up, but slow songs would clear the floor every time. Then one day everyone was suddenly asking for it. I refused the first few times, but finally relented to prove them wrong. No one left. Everyone sitting around the bar came out and danced. Minneapolis's behind-the-times anthem of 1998 had been found, and the crowd loved every minute of it.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Earworm: All I Wanna Do

I used to like Sheryl Crow. She made music like "All I Wanna Do" that was fun to listen to while sitting out on the porch and having a beer or two. Or at least it seemed like it would have been, back when I was in high school and not yet imbibing in alcoholic beverages. She even went a little darker with stuff that I actually enjoyed for a spell like "If It Makes You Happy" and "My Favorite Mistake."

Everything changed in the early 2002 when she released C'mon C'mon. I was working at a certain big-box electronics store  at the time, and the company was sponsoring her tour. It seemed like "Soak Up the Sun" and "Steve McQueen" played on the televisions every five minutes. Those were some dark days, when it was all I could do to not stab myself in the ear before the end of my shift. My time there soured my appreciation for anything that Sheryl Crow touched from then on, and destroyed her back catalog for me as well.

I occasionally get a little nostalgic when I hear "All I Wanna Do" from time to time, but quickly come to my senses and leave the room or change the station. This one is going to take a while to expel from my head.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Earworm: Time to Change

Somehow I got "Time to Change" from The Brady Bunch stuck in my head last night. I haven't heard it in years, but the sha-na-na hook pops in for a visit from time to time. It's not very easy to get out either.

I remember watching The Brady Bunch a lot when I was a kid. The episodes where they were in Hawaii? That was some scary stuff for my four-year-old self. Somehow I never made the association that it was aired in reruns when I was growing up and that the clothes were terribly out of style. Either that or the stuff my mom had me wearing was all bell bottoms and lederhosen. Actually, there are pictures to prove that she made me wear lederhosen. I was a very tolerant child.

So here's what I think that I remember of the episode with "Time to Change" in it: The kids entered themselves in yet another talent contest and worked up some song that was sure to win them first prize. Peter screwed everything up by hitting puberty, God forbid. So they somehow recorded a demo tape with another song and had him squawk his way through the chorus. It all worked out because his changing voice worked perfectly for the whole theme of the song. The laugh track kicked in whenever his voice would crack, and everything was just hunky-dory. Lesson learned.

I wish my puberty had been that easy. I was awfully awkward during those years and didn't have a hot stepsister in whom to place my confidence. Instead my life was like a live-action episode of Beavis and Butt-Head, but with much more parental supervision and far fewer music videos.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Earworm: Bad Romance

I enjoy some Lady Gaga from time to time. That woman makes some damn good pop music, even if I couldn't stand her at first. "Let's Dance" struck me as inane drivel, but having "Poker Face" drilled into my skull a million times during my honeymoon wore down my defenses. Since then I have been pretty happy with most of her singles except for "Alejandro." I don't like that one at all.

Even if I didn't care for her performance aspect, she is a great songwriter. My absolute favorite Lady Gaga song so far is "Bad Romance." It does a fantastic job of blending happy pop music with fairly dark lyrics, and has spawned a ton of great covers. The best of the bunch is by an American folk singer called Lissie. She sounds like Melissa Etheridge in her most desperate, worn out moments and I absolutely love it. That breathy, raspy voice gets me every time.

Wow, I have never seen the video for the original version of "Bad Romance" before. I need to see this woman in concert.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Earworm: It Ain't Over 'til It's Over

My family took a vacation to Australia in the early 1990s, when I was at the beginning of my adolescence. It was summer here, which meant it was winter there. I have lots of vivid memories of that time, starting with Sydney being an absolute wind tunnel. My Minnesota blood even found it to be almost too cold to handle. Still, it was one of the happiest times of my life.

I remember arriving into our first hotel, turning on the television and discovering a music-video program that was playing a pop-up-video style show. "It Ain't Over 'til It's Over" by Lenny Kravitz was playing, and the television told me that he did not own a single pair of socks. That's it. Not one pair.

The next morning involved watching an episode of Silverhawks and walking through the city streets. I want to go back there with a quickness.

The flight back home wasn't so much fun. I couldn't fall asleep on airplanes at that time, so I passed out during a very long layover in Hawaii. Unfortunately it was in the back of a rental convertible with my head tilted back and my mouth wide open. My tongue got sunburned. I have no desire to go back to Hawaii. I hate Hawaii. Austrailia though? I would go back there in a heartbeat. Crunchie bars and Lift soda are the stuff of which my dreams are made.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Earworm: Doctorin' the Tardis

I've been on a big KLF kick recently, having been reminded of them the other day during that terrible "Stayin' Alive" earworm. It turns out that the rapper from N-Trance is the same guy from the KLF, and that made me want to punch myself in the face. Everything I thought I knew about the world was turned on its ear...worm. Yeah, I went there. Hush it.

I used to listen to a whole lot of the KLF when I was younger. It was a few years before I realized that they were the same guys responsible for "Doctorin' the Tardis," one of my favorite dance songs ever due to my being a big Doctor Who nerd. It's really a terrible song, an an experiment by a couple of very talented musicians to make a song that would be an instant hit. You see kids, Wikipedia didn't exist when your old uncle Geoff was in school. I didn't know that the Timelords were also known as the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu, the JAMs or the KLF. It's ADD for the musically responsible.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Earworm: Fluffernutter

Somehow I have gone through my entire life without tasting a fluffernutter before last night. I did know the jingle, however, which I then sang to my wife for the rest of the evening. I made one, enjoyed it and was glad that I had enough for another.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Earworm: Touch Me

Ah, the Doors. They're the end-all of classic rock for some people, but not me. I went through a phase in college where I listened to a whole lot of Jim Morrison and company, even going so far as picking up a cassette of the An American Prayer poetry album. That stuff was deep, man. Totally.

It took me a few years, but now I think they're an overrated, very lucky bar band with a pretty mediocre lyricist. That's not to say that I hate them. I don't. I have just gotten to the point where I'm perfectly okay with a hearing a few of their songs or changing tracks. There is certainly worse music out there, and whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I do love "Touch Me," however. It's not a particularly good song, but it, along with a few other of their singles really makes me happy. There is a simplicity there that speaks to the back of my mind.

Huh. For some reason I want to go listen to some Billy Idol. The Cult, too. I guess the Doors did pave the way for some good stuff, even if I did outgrow most of their music along the way.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Earworm: The Red

There are a whole lot of bands that sound exactly the same to me to the point that I can't really distinguish one from another. Chevelle would be one of those, but I adore "The Red" from 2002's Wonder What's Next.

I tried really hard to get into the rest of the album but just couldn't do it. It was too crunchy. Still, that one diamond in the rough was enough to keep me coming back for their next album, which I promptly forgot about after one listen. Wikipedia tells me that they put out a couple of fairly well-received albums after that, but I don't care enough to give them a try. I still haven't looked for that Yellowcard album from last week.

Going back to the bands that sound like other bands, "The Red" keeps mixing into "The Kill" by 30 Seconds to Mars in my head, but that's an earworm for another day.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Earworm: Obsession

Last night I'm sitting on my sofa and unwinding by watching an episode of Weeds. At the beginning, a DEA agent gets Celia to sing Animotion's "Obsession" at a karaoke bar. I knew exactly what song would be today's earworm on the spot.

Wow, somehow I have never seen this video before today. My entire experience with the song was from the trailer to 9½ Weeks. Animotion rivals A Flock of Seagulls for most awesome '80s-video hairstyles.

I tried watching 9½ Weeks once back in the mid-1990s when I was managing a video store and it was on the one of the two movie-trailer tapes that weren't broken. I couldn't make it through the entire film, which struck me as softcore Skinemax with a bigger budget. It was just kind of gross. I love the song though.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Earworm: Stayin' Alive

I enjoy the Bee Gees and love the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. There are few pop songs better than "Stayin' Alive."

I used to have to play some remix a lot at the bar. I think it was another one of those Jock Jams tracks. All I remember is some rapper saying something about having a fever for the flavor of something like it was a Pringles ad. Once you pop, you can't stop.

Found it. It's by N-Trance. This looks like the most boring party ever.

Wow, I just found out that the rapper from N-Trance is the same guy from the KLF. My world has been turned upside down.