Sky Rockets In Flight

On his blog at The Nation, Eric Alterman has listed the "World’s Worst Songs: The Top Twenty." (I have added artist names and the year performed in parentheses):

"Imagine" (John Lennon, 1971)
"Afternoon Delight" (Starland Vocal Band, 1976)
"The Night Chicago Died" (Paper Lace, 1974)
"Billy Don’t be a Hero" (Paper Lace, 1974)
"You Light Up My Life" (Debby Boone, 1977)
"Mary Queen of Arkansas" (Bruce Springsteen, 1973)
"The Angel" (Bruce Springsteen, 1973)
"Wildfire" (Michael Murphy, 1975)
"Playground In My Mind" (Clint Holmes, 1973)
"Seasons in the Sun" (Terry Jacks, 1973)
"Ebony And Ivory" (Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder, 1982)
"My Love" (Paul McCartney & Wings, 1973)
"Let ‘Em In" (Paul McCartney & Wings, 1976)
"Sometimes When We Touch" (Dan Hill, 1977)
"Baby I'm-A Want You" (Bread, 1972)
"'Arthur's Theme' (Best That You Can Do)" (Christopher Cross, 1981)
"One Tin Soldier" (Original Caste, 1970; Coven, 1971)
"You May Be Right" (Billy Joel, 1980)
"We Built This City" (Starship, 1985)
"Kumbaya" (Traditional African American spiritual, popular versions recorded by Pete Seeger, The Weavers, Joan Baez, The Seekers, and others)
"Who’s Ruling Who?" (I have to confess I'm not sure what song Alterman is referring to here, but he might mean Aretha Franklin's "Who's Zooming Who" from 1985)

Alterman's friend Michael Tomasky at The Guardian has taken Eric to task for his bias against sentimentality. By and large I agree with Tomasky, although it seems to me that what Alterman objects to is earnestness as much as sentimentality per se, but that's not really what I wanted to talk about.

Looking at the years these songs were written and recorded reminds me of what generated Richard Thompson's 1,000 Years of Popular Music project. When Thompson was asked to list the "Greatest Songs of the Millennium" by Playboy Magazine, he knew they were really asking for a list of his favorite songs from the past 50 years or so. Thompson, being the clever man that he is, instead prepared a list that began with "Sumer Is Icumen In" (written circa 1260) and ended with Britney Spears' Y2K smash, "Oops!… I Did It Again." This is just one of the many reasons Richard Thompson is far more brilliant than the rest of us. Of course Playboy didn't print his list.

I imagine Alterman doesn't want us to take his list too seriously (after all, he didn't even bother to tell you who did the songs), but what are the chances that all of the top 20 worst songs in human history (with one sort-of exception) were written between 1970 and 1985? Further, what are the chances that 18 of 20 would be written in the U.S. and U.K. ("One Tin Soldier" was written in Canada and "Seasons In The Sun" is an adaptation of a Jacques Brel song)? That just doesn't seem likely to me.

Looking at the list tells me more about its author than the history of music. Even if I knew nothing about Alterman (and I don't know much), I could tell from his list that he was likely born in the United States between 1958 and 1965, probably grew up on the East Coast in a politically liberal family, and likely resented the time he had to spend singing "Kumbaya" at sleep away camp.

All of which is to say that lists like this are inevitably subjective. I don't mean "subjective" in the clichéd "there's no such thing as good or bad music" sense, but rather in the sense that one's experience of the world (where and when you are born, cumulative life experiences, etc.) shapes our understanding of the world, as well as what we value and what we disregard.

Maybe that is just a fancy way of saying "there's no such thing as good or bad music." I'm not sure I'd go that far, but at the very least--even if you are committed to the idea that there is an objective set of criteria that allows us to distinguish between good and bad music--it is undeniable that we can only make these kinds of value judgments about music we have been exposed to.

Frankly, I have never seen an argument that there is some objective standard for making judgments about music (or any other art) that isn't hopelessly tortured. I lean more toward the position that it is only through the power wielded by particular institutions that matters of preference (say a bias against sentimentality) become legitimized as criteria for making aesthetic judgments, and these criteria are subject to change across time periods and cultures.

Personally, I am not at all committed to the idea that there is a set of objective criteria for "good" music, although Starship's "We Built This City" does badly make me want to believe that there are objective criteria for what constitutes bad music, even if its postulates and axioms are elusive to my feeble mind.

**Full disclosure: I actually like a lot of these songs, even if they are bad.

**UPDATE: Alterman responds (and calls me a "really smart guy"). Also, it appears "Who's Ruling Who" is not one of the worst songs of all time, but an editing error. (If I was actually a really smart guy, I might have noticed that Alterman's list of 20 worst songs included 21 titles.)

Velvet Crush - Teenage Symphonies To God Infomercial

Here is a rarely seen television commercial for Velvet Crush's 1994 Teenage Symphonies To God album. Or at least I think it's a commercial. Maybe it's just a music video for "Hold Me Up" made to look like a commercial for the album. The director certainly captured the look and feel of late-night cable commercials of the era. My favorite part is when the pop-up graphics proclaim "it's the Rhode Island sound!" This was absolutely one of my favorite albums of the 90s, and its still worth hearing today. Thanks to my friend Adam for pointing me to this video.

R.I.P. - Robert Wilson [The Gap Band]

I was saddened to hear that Robert Wilson, bassist for the legendary Gap Band died of a massive heart attack at the young age of 53 this past Sunday.

"You Dropped A Bomb On Me" and “I Don’t Believe You Want To Get Up And Dance (Oops),” were two of my favorite songs growing up. In fact, The Gap Band IV is currently sitting in my pile of records to be needledropped so I can listen to it on my iPod.

My thoughts go out to Robert's family, including brothers Charlie and Ronnie.

Cardinal - Toy Bell EP

Cardinal was originally a trio comprised of Australian ex-pat and former Mole Richard Davies, multi-instrumentalist Eric Matthews and drummer Bob Fay, but soon became primarily a collaboration between Davies and Matthews. Davies and Matthews strengths (songwriting and arranging respectively) complimented each other perfectly, but sadly their work together did not last very long. The collaboration resulted in a lone 7" EP and a stunning 10 track LP/CD. Originally issued on the late, lamented Flydaddy label, the self-titled CD was reissued a few years ago with 11 bonus tracks, including 2 of the 4 tracks originally featured on the Toy Bell EP.

Personally I was a bit ambivalent about the bonus tracks on the reissue. All of them are worth hearing, but part of what made the original CD release special for me was its brevity. When the album was released in 1994 it seemed record labels believed that every album had to fill a CD to near its 80 minute capacity. It was rare to hear an album that was less than an hour long, which resulted in a lot of over-stuffed, unfocused, tedious albums. By contrast, Cardinal, clocking in at just a hair over 30 minutes, was a model of concision. There is not a wasted note on the album.

Of course if all Cardinal had going for it was brevity, it would not be so warmly remembered today. Mojo called the album "one of the best albums of the 90s" and its hard for me to disagree. With post-Nevermind grunge lite wannabees flooding the market by 1994, Cardinal's lushly orchestrated pop felt like a breath of fresh air. While Cardinal's chamber pop had precedents in the music of The Left Banke, Emmit Rhodes, Love, Burt Bacharach and others, it was so skillfully executed and memorable that it sounded completely fresh, even if you were aware of the duos' influences.

For some reason two tracks from the Toy Bell EP were left off the CD reissue, the original version of "Big Mink" and "It Turns on in a Circle on a Pedestal." Both are worth hearing, but I imagine quite hard to find today given the relative scarcity of their debut EP.

Davies and Matthews attempted to resume their collaboration a couple years ago, but I understand the reunion was very short lived due to the same type of artistic differences that broke up Cardinal in the first place.

The Moles - Untune The Sky

The Moles' Untune The Sky, one of the great lost albums of the 90s, has been reissued as a limited edition 2 LP set by Kill Shamen records. The set looks to be a straight reissue of the Flydaddy CD that was released back in 1999 that included the entire 1991 LP, plus the 2 X 7" single that was released on Ringers Lactate in 1992.

Untune The Sky was almost impossible to find in the U.S. upon its original release, and the Ringers Lactate single was not much easier to come by. I did find a copy of the single, but then I was working at Kim's Underground at the time, and I bought one of maybe three copies that came in (the other two no doubt also snagged by employees).

This is an essential release for fans of retro 60s psychedelic pop, as well as devotees of Kiwi pop (though the Moles hailed from Australia). Even at this early stage in his career, bandleader and primary songwriter Richard Davies had a sharp ear for melody. The production and arrangements are less elaborate than those of his seminal duo Cardinal or his solo work, but they have a certain ragged charm missing from his later work.

"Bury Me Happy" the lead off cut from the album (at least on the reissue) to my ears has much in common with the experimental indie-pop of New Zealanders like The Clean, while "What's The New Mary Jane" takes Davies' pop-psych songwriting to the next level. It takes cojones to nick a title from Lennon-McCartney, but The Moles pull it off. Great as this version is, it compares unfavorably to my memory of Davies performing the song live with the Flaming Lips as his backup band.

If you don't have a turntable, the Flydaddy CD can still be found used and I highly recommend it.

Resplendent/Downey - Respondent EP

Resplendent is (was?) the moniker used by Michael Lenzi of Number One Cup and The Fireshow to release his solo music. So far as I am aware, the last release under the Resplendent moniker was the 2007 Respondent EP, a collaboration between Lenzi and Mike Downey. Lenzi recorded the basic tracks and Downey remixed them. Lenzi describes the collaboration as follows:

In the beginning of 2005 I played my one and only show under the name of Resplendent. I had a band of 4 people consisting of Derek See (guitar), Pat O’Connell (guitar) and Joe Adamik (drums).

I was a bit discouraged after that and decided I needed to take a break. Perhaps that would revive me. It did temporarily and I set about recording an EP called Spring. I thought that I would release it under the name of Michael Lenzi, thus retiring the Resplendent moniker.

I came up with 3 songs which I recorded in a few weeks in my home studio Plastic Skull. I promptly shared them with a few people and forgot about them. My desire to make music vanished.

I did however share them on my website. That is how Mike Downey heard them. He contacted me and we talked about a collaboration but it fizzled on my end. I just couldn’t get the music going again.

He plugged away on his own and sent me a remixed track by email. It was awesome. He went ahead and did the other two tracks from the EP. I loved them so we decided to release the collaboration. This is it.

All my tracks were recorded using my two samplers: the AKAI MPC 2000 XL and the Roland DJ-70. I recorded them on a 1/2″ analog 8-track machine. Mike did his remixing, editing and additional recording in early 2007 at his home studio Funkis & Svettis in Stockholm using an iBook and Ableton Live.

I hope we haven't heard the last of Resplendent, because the music lives up to everything that is implied by the moniker. You can download the entire EP for free (legally) here. I highly recommend it.

Free MP3 From Richard Thompson's Upcoming Dream Attic Album

Richard Thompson is offering a free MP3 download of "Big Sun Falling In The River" a track from his upcoming album, Dream Attic. It's an album of new songs, but in order to capture the energy of his live shows, the bulk of the performances on the album were recorded live at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. The album is scheduled for August 31st release on Shout Factory.

The track list for Dream Attic is as follows:

1. The Money Shuffle
2. Among the Gorse, Among the Grey
3. Haul Me Up
4. Burning Man
5. Here Comes Geordie
7. Crimescene
8. Big Sun Falling in the River
9. Stumble On
10. Sidney Wells
11. A Brother Slips Away
12. Bad Again
13. If Love Whispers Your Name

Happy Birthday To Me

I've wanted a to own a copy of Public Image Ltd.'s post-punk masterpiece, Metal Box, for the last quarter of a century or more, ever since I bought and was captivated by the music on the inferior U.S. double disc 33 rpm version entitled Second Edition. So as a birthday present to myself I finally bit the bullet and bid on a pristine copy on eBay from a reputable seller. Unfortunately, the album must be shipped from the U.K., so it will be a few weeks before I finally have the 3 X 45 rpm metal encased LPs in my grubby hands.

Despite my years of record shopping, I do not think I have ever seen Metal Box in a record store. Maybe I saw it on the wall at Orpheus Records in Georgetown at some outrageous price once. I'm looking forward to finally hearing this album the way it was meant to be heard.

LA Times Says Cassettes Are Making A Comeback

Have you heard the news? The Compact Cassette is making a comeback. The revival of interest in the lowly cassette tape documented by August Brown in the LA Times appears to be a modest, fringe phenomenon, but a real one nonetheless. Pitchfork noted the same trend in more detail back in February. I have been known to wax nostalgic on the topic of the mixtape on occasion myself.

We've been reading stories about resurgent interest in vinyl records for years now, so it was probably only a matter of time before the cassette started making a comeback as well. People tend to think of the CD as replacing the LP, but the picture is more complicated than that when you consider the often forgotten fact that from the early-80s through the early-90s the cassette was actually the dominant music format for both home recording and pre-recorded music. Pre-recorded cassette sales passed up LP sales sometime in the early 80s, and it was not until 1993 that CDs outsold cassette tapes in the United States. The compact cassette had about a decade of extremely robust sales, so it is not surprising that there would be a revival of interest in the format approximately 20 years after its decline began.

The good news is that my boss (evidently unaware of the cassette's impending resurgence) recently gave me his Nakamichi RX-202 cassette deck, so I will have something really nice on which to play the "outré noise-rock" currently being released exclusively on cassette.


I'll try to post some thoughts about what this resurgence might be about later.

College Radio Project - Posters

I've been searching through my own personal archives to see if I still have any interesting curios or artifacts from my college radio days. Stuffed away in a file labeled "Nostalgia," I found a few 8.5" X 11" posters that I had used to promote my radio show. I would typically give names to my radio shows in the tradition of John Peel's "The Perfumed Garden" and other underground radio shows of the past, and put up posters around campus to promote the show. One semester I named my show "666 Minutes" (a nod both to MTV's "120 Minutes" program and the Dark One), other names included "The Crypt Of Terror" and "The Tina Yothers Experience" (in tribute to the Family Ties actress).


I used to hang these up around the campus HUB building, and they would tend to get torn down fairly quickly. It seemed some at the college did not appreciate my way of promoting my radio program. Eventually a rule was passed that anything hung on the walls of the HUB had to first get a stamp of approval from the Director of Residence Life. I never sought the stamp of approval (as I doubt it would have been granted, and I didn't want some official stamp mucking up my posters). So my posters would get torn down even faster than before, and I would see how quickly I could put more up. It became like a game to me.


At one point during my Junior year I was called into a Dean's office to hear complaints from three of college's more socially conservative students about my posters. Someone who was not a fan of my work had kept a file of some of my more lurid promotional efforts. I must admit, the complaining students were actually very nice and extremely sincere in their criticisms. They let me know that they were concerned I was promoting suicide and possibly satanism with these posters. I remember one of them earnestly telling me she was very disturbed to see the number of the beast being used at her college. The Dean was careful to let me know that no one wanted to "censor" me, but that she did want me to hear how what I was doing was making some students feel.


I thanked the students for bringing their concerns to me, then told them in the nicest way I could that I thought they were sheltered and if they bothered to walk five blocks off campus they would see a hundred things more disturbing than my posters. I also told them that part of being an adult was learning to deal with viewpoints different from their own. I remember also telling the Dean that while I appreciated these students concerns, I did not believe they were a representative cross sample of students at the college and represented an extreme minority viewpoint. That was the last I heard about it.

My friend Mike who was then Station Manager (I was Music Director at the time) had been required to attend the meeting with me, though he let me do most of the talking. He told me afterward that he was amazed at my ability to keep my cool and advance rational arguments in my defense without backing down. Frankly, I was a little surprised by my ability to do this myself. I think before the meeting Mike considered me a bit of a goofball, but I earned his respect that day. He had been grooming someone else to become Station Manager when he stepped down because he didn't think I was "serious" enough to do the job. But when he did step down at the end of that semester he insisted that I take over the job.


For the most part, these yellowed-with-age posters look incredibly juvenile to me today. The "666 Minutes" one strikes me as particularly sophomoric, but then I was a sophomore in college when I created it, so I have an excuse. In retrospect, I must admit that I was just as sheltered as my more conservative classmates, albeit perhaps in a different way. Some of the students at my college came from extremely conservative, religious backgrounds and it was hard for me to see these posters through their eyes. It still is. But today I am better able to sympathize with those who see the world differently than me, and respect those who hold beliefs different from my own. I spoke the truth when I told my classmates that part of being an adult was "learning to deal with perspectives different from your own," but it was a lesson I had yet to fully absorb myself. I didn't appreciate having to meet with those students at the time, but in retrospect I consider it an important part of my education, and I think the Dean was quite wise to have called the meeting.

I'm looking to collect recollections and artifacts from others relating to college radio. If you have any artifacts, curios or stories relating to college radio you can send submissions to me at wpbilderback [at] gmail.com.