Five for Friday
The snow is melting. It’s Friday. That’s enough reason to celebrate in my book. In the North, 40 degree days in February are unheard of. Don’t get me wrong, I hate global warming. Any day before March 21 that I can run outdoors and enjoy what the Earth has to offer, however, is a good day.
As Spring’s unseasonable presence graces us, we start listening to different tunes. Gone are the introspective tunes of winter. Instead, we tend toward songs with a definitive climax, finished with either marathons burst of funk, reflection turned into contentment or the transition to a major melody. Here are five of these tunes that I’ve kept in heavy rotation lately.
Dr. John in a suit color we all wish we could pull off.
“Qualified” - Dr. John: Perhaps it’s because Mardi Gras is approaching, but Dr. John’s raspy voice and funky New Orleans rhythms wipe away the February doldrums almost as well as Vitamin D does. Off his 1973 album In The Right Place - Dr. John’s most commercially successful endeavor - “Qualified” is a manifesto for all the freaks, with sly observations like “Your steak ain’t no hipper than my pork chop/Your Cadillac ain’t no hipper than my bus stop.” This tongue-in-cheek dig at the conspicuous consumption of the wealthy is also an anthem of self empowerment in an unintentional manner, because when Dr. John preaches that one’s contentment with their stage in life is improved with perspective, you better believe it especially when it’s delivered with Southern-style syncopation.
The Smiths were dapper young punks in the early '80s.
“Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” - The Smiths: You don’t need me to tell you to listen to the Smiths. They’re one of those bands that you listen to for a while, then forget about. One day - out of the blue - you’ll remember them again and reignite your love affair with their music. My introduction to the Smiths came a couple years back and several years too late, thanks to a woman I briefly saw. Her Smiths obsession rubbed off on met, and I’ve since found solace in joy in ditties like “This Charming Man” and “Ask.” My favorite Smiths song - “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” - is off their 1986 album Hatful of Hollow. It’s their briefest endeavor in length (but not in title), clocking in at 1:52. Those minute and 52 seconds are sheer perfection, however, and Morrissey and crew master the art of empowering plaintive longing through a simple, memorable melody and singsong lyrics.
Herbie Hancock and his band brought the funk, the whole funk and nothing but the funk.
“Come Running to Me” - Herbie Hancock: Many jazz purists write off Herbie Hancock’s electric period - post-Headhunters at least - as fusion dreck. While his albums from the 1970s to the 1980s weren’t as much complete efforts as his early work, they had no shortage of standout tracks. “Come Running to Me” is off of Hancock’s 1978 flirtation with disco, Sunlight, and features the dual attraction of swirling orchestration and a smooth vocodor melody. Hancock’s experimentation with the vocodor in his late ‘70s work set the precedent for Zapp & Roger’s hits, and is a fun and funkified listen all on its own, especially as the snow melts and the song’s climax unfolds much like the rising sun.
Dean Wareham (of Galaxie 500 and Luna) makes the case for double denim.
“Touch A Four Leaf Clover” - Atlantic Starr: Erykah Badu’s 1997 masterpiece Baduizm turns 20 this year, and one of the album’s best tracks is “4 Leaf Clover.” Until two weeks ago, I had no clue this R&B slow jam was a cover of Atlantic Starr’s 1983 tune “Touch A Four Leaf Clover.” The New York-based soul group churned out a series of hits in the early 1980s and their work receives heavy sampling on hip-hop tracks. “Touch A Four Leaf Clover” is a soaring masterpiece, showing that strong, orchestrated soul was still alive and well after a trending toward minimalistic disco beats. Trumpet accents punctuate the refrain, giving the song a sophisticated late-night feel.
“Here She Comes Now” - Galaxie 500: Luna was one of my favorite bands as a high-schooler, thanks to a friend who introduced me to their rendition of “Bonnie and Clyde” when I was 13. Frontman Dean Wareham’s breathy, hushed vocals defined the rise of shoegaze music with Luna, but they evolved from his work with Galaxie 500, the ‘80s version of the Velvet Underground. On this Velvets cover, Wareham slows down and whispers Lou Reed’s classic chorus without losing any of the tune’s character, giving it a new dimension and a different meaning, one less of anticipation and one more of a man knocked off his feet by the tribulations of love. It’s fitting that Wareham and crew performed and recorded with Lou Reed shortly before his death, as Galaxie 500 and Luna are direct descendants of his music. I had the pleasure of interviewing Wareham several years back, and he’s every bit as wry and witty as he is when he’s singing.