Five For Friday

Perhaps I’ve taken a page from Greil Marcus’ “Real Life Rock Top 10” columns from The Believer (and now Pitchfork), but life is more interesting when there’s a soundtrack set to it. This soundtrack comes from all sorts of places, from songs heard overhead at stores, wedged in the middle of movie soundtracks or found through a favorite Twitter or Instagram account. The ways we consume music in the 21st century are vast, and new and previously unknown (to us) songs and artists are at our fingertips at all times, thanks to the internet and apps like Shazam.

To aid in this discovery, here are five albums and songs I’ve kept in my rotation lately. There’s no rhyme or reason to why I like them, other than that their melodies and lyrics appeal to my ear. Maybe they’ll appeal to yours, too.

“Under the Street Lamp” - Joe Bataan: As a young man, Joe Bataan was a gang leader in his East Harlem neighborhood. Following an arrest for auto theft, Bataan spent time in a correctional school. Soon afterward he turned his energies to music and helped popularize Latin Soul by singing exuberant tunes that captured the spirit of Spanish Harlem during the hazy days of the Civil Rights movement. 1972’s “Under the Street Lamp” is a reminiscence of Bataan’s days shooting the breeze with the neighborhood boys. It’s a song that discusses the power of roots, and Bataan sings of men whose dreams are bigger than their neighborhoods. He sings of men who feel stuck in Spanish Harlem and are angling to get out, and those, like Willie Mays, who came from a similar background and worked to become superstars thanks to their drive and ambition. At its core, “Under the Street Lamp” is an anthem of resilience and a reminder that a lot of grit goes a long way.

“Rapture” - Blondie: 1981 signaled the end of disco, New Wave’s middle age and the birth of rap. At this point however, all three still occupied American culture’s musical forefront. On Blondie’s “Rapture,” these three genres engage in a musical ménage à trois, where disco brings its backbeat, New Wave brings its whimsical, absurd lyricism and rap makes one of its earliest forays into the general public when lead singer Debbie Harry breaks it down in the middle of the tune. The sax work by Tom Scott is sharp, precise and funky, and anchors the three genres as they mingle. The end result is slightly spooky and seriously danceable, something very much of its time yet still resonant 36 years later.

“Gengis” - Chico Hamilton: Chico Hamilton’s 1973 instrumental “Gengis” burns slow like a strong whiskey or potent incense. There’s little sonic variation in the song’s four-minute span, yet it captivates because of how it maintains - and capitalizes on - its sheer intensity. The song only fades at the finale, and its consistency is maintained by guitar distortions and trills which make the melody feel floaty and high. “Gengis” is driven, however, by the haunting bass reverb, lending it a dark and moody backdrop set to Hamilton’s jazz drum chops. And of course, he puts the groove right in the pocket and doesn’t miss a beat.

“Pure Comedy” - Father John Misty: From Father John Misty’s new album of the same title (which debuts today), “Pure Comedy” is a reprise of the introspective, irreverent balladeering he popularized on 2015’s “Bored in the USA.” The lilting piano evokes Harry Nilsson, as does the melody’s ease and simple stucture, which brings to mind the songwriter’s 1972 hit “Without You.” Much like at the end of “Without You,” “Pure Comedy’s” climax is over-the-top. Though driven by the piano, the ivories take second fiddle to the singer, who belts out his words as if his life depends on it. The result is a replica of “Bored in the USA,” but one with more earnest pathos and just as much maudlin wit.

“I Can See Your Future” - Belle and Sebastian: One of the best concerts I’ve seen was Belle & Sebastian’s performance at 2015’s Rock the Garden. Lead singer Stuart Murdoch delivered an energetic, ebullient performance where he bounced around on stage in a Breton-striped sailor shirt like a man half his age. From car trips with former lovers to the mundane grind of work, Belle and Sebastian has been a constant companion over the past two years. When “I Can See Your Future” played overhead at work one afternoon, I knew spring had arrived - or at least the springtime playlist. “I Can See Your Future” is off of the band’s 2010 album Belle and Sebastian Write About Love, and Sarah Martin takes lead vocals in a rare usurpation from Murdoch. Her bouncy enunciation - paired with legato strings and bright trumpets - merges with a Calypso-style melody that doubles as a mood brightener thanks to its galloping eighth-note structure. Throw the band's unimpeachable English indie pop blueprint into the mix, and you've got the sonic equivalent of the triumphant return of spring.

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