“I Think We’re Alone Now” (Tommy James and the Shondells Cover)

Hey there!  So I haven’t posted in awhile and I wanted to put on a great tune that I’d been meaning to learn how to play for awhile (and I did, and it’s easy!)   This Tommy James and The Shondells song is a classic, and when you listen to the actual recording, you can see how ahead of its time the production is.

And to me, the message is simple and in which I can easily relate.  You have two people in love, running around together, almost as if they’re trying to escape getting old and time itself.  And that’s what love makes you feel…like you’ll always be young and always be happy.  Ive had conversations even with family where people have said how rare it is for two people to have that… seem like they get each other so well, and the rest of the world is left out of whatever inside joke is going on between them.  That’s what this song, to me, is about…When you’re with the one you’re meant to be with, you are the BEST version of yourself.  You are stronger because of them, more creative, and in the busy world, you sometimes can’t remember who you truly are unless you get back there again.

And then you find yourself saying with a sigh of relief…”I think we’re alone now”.. =)

And for those guitar players out there, without going into the full layout of the song, the chords are A, C#m, f#m, E for the verse, c#m and A G E for the bridge, and the chorus is A, E, D, A.  So go try it out!

Or just listen and enjoy my version instead!  And as a birthday present to me, you should leave some good ratings/comments

Adios!

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Summer Songs – Playlists on Parade

By Chris Moore:

As the summer months draw to a close, I figured it was about time to share my summer themed playlist.  What follows are twenty-five songs that celebrate the warmest season of the year, either in name or in spirit.

I’ve included the classics, like “Summer in the City” and “Hot Fun in the Summer Time,” as well as lesser known gems like America’s “Indian Summer” and the Prelude era Moody Blues track “Long Summer Days.”

Just for fun, I’ve thrown in “Summertime” by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, and I’ve made sure to update the list with the best song about summer to be released in years, the Barenaked Ladies’ “Summertime”

So, there’s a little bit of everything:  retro classics (Mungo Jerry), all-out rock (the Who), indie (Dashboard Confessional), acoustic (Jack Johnson), dated eighties pop (Miami Sound Machine), rap (DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince), and songwriter rock (Bob Dylan).

From me to you, I hope this’ll help you to keep on keepin’ the summer alive!

1)  “Indian Summer” – America

2)  “Summertime” – Barenaked Ladies

3)  “All Summer Long” – The Beach Boys

4)  “Summertime Blues” (Live) – The Who

5)  “Summer Skin” – Dashboard Confessional

6)  “Banana Pancakes” – Jack Johnson

7)  “It Must Be Summer” – Fountains of Wayne

8)  “Long Sweet Summer Nights” – The Thorns

9)  “Feels Like Summer Again” – The Wallflowers

10)  “The Other Side of Summer” – Elvis Costello

11)  “Hot Fun in the Summer Time” – Sly & the Family Stone

12)  “Summer in the City” – The Lovin’ Spoonful

13)  “Summertime” – DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince

14)  “San Francisco” – Brett Dennen

15)  “In the Summertime” – Mungo Jerry

16)  “Summer Means New Love” – The Beach Boys

17)  “Asleep on a Sunbeam” – Belle & Sebastian

18)  “In the Sun” – She & Him

19)  “Hot Summer Nights” – Miami Sound Machine

20)  “Walk in the Sun” – Bruce Hornsby

21)  “Keep An Eye on Summer” – Brian Wilson

22)  “Long Summer Days” – The Moody Blues

23)  “Keepin’ the Summer Alive” – The Beach Boys

24)  “Summer Days” – Bob Dylan

25)  “Your Summer Dream” – The Beach Boys

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Elliott Smith’s “Figure 8” (2000) – The Weekend Review

** This is the second in a five part series of music reviews, counting down from the #5 to the #1 albums of the decade, 2000-2009.  On January 2nd, 2010, the #1 album was revealed, along with the complete Weekend Review picks for the Top Thirty Albums of the Decade. **

By Chris Moore:

RATING: 5/5 stars

Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 is undeniably one of the most hauntingly beautiful studio albums ever recorded.

This album — his fifth and final before his death — came at the peak of his career, blending his early acoustic fingerpicking styles with the orchestration that characterized his later work.  When it was first released, some reviewers criticized it as lacking the “subtlety” of his previous work.

Excrement.

Figure 8 has all the subtle brushstrokes of his tremendous early work — Roman Candle, Either/Or — with a much better grasp of the big picture.  Even XO, released two years previously as his major label debut, never quite attained the cohesion of Figure 8.  The concept of the album title alone is compelling, possibly taken from a Schoolhouse Rock! song (which he recorded during the sessions).  In a Boston Herald interview, Smith explained the concept by saying, “I liked the idea of a self-contained, endless pursuit of perfection.  But I have a problem with perfection…”  Conjuring the image of a skater, he continued, “So the object is not to stop or arrive anywhere; it’s just to make this thing as beautiful as they can.”

If this doesn’t encapsulate Smith’s worldview, then what does?

For better or worse, Figure 8 — not to mention all of his previous work — is often, perhaps unavoidably viewed through the lens of his death in 2003, generally considered to have been a suicide even though homicide could not be ruled out.  Knowing the circumstances of his death, it is difficult not to bestow additional layers of meaning on tracks like “Everything Means Nothing to Me” and “L.A.”

Whatever your take on his life and death may be, the music on Figure 8 speaks for itself.  Ranging from stripped down acoustic crooning to full-band electric romping, not to mention some honky tonk piano thrown in for good measure, the instrumental and vocal textures are well-layered, somehow achieving complexity without distracting from the songs themselves.

Elliott Smith's "Figure 8" (2000)

Elliott Smith's "Figure 8" (2000)

“Son of Sam” is, of course, the perfect album opener.  As my girlfriend has pointed out, you really have to remind yourself of the topic of this track to avoid being taken in by how catchy and pretty it is.  And how many songs about serial killers are simply this good?

Not many, I would hope.

Smith immediately takes it down a notch for track two, declaring his emotional distance in “Somebody That I Used To Know,” which is all acoustic and double-tracked vocals.  Classic Elliott Smith.

No sooner does that song fade then “Junk Bond Trader” kicks up on piano, spewing out disdain in a manner that only Smith ever could.  The next two tracks — “Everything Reminds Me Of Her” and “Everything Means Nothing to Me” — continue along the same theme, but in a more openly vulnerable voice.  The latter sounds every bit as stripped down as the former until about a minute in, when the characteristically double-tracked vocals are joined by heavily reverbed drums, building up to a spine-tingling crescendo.

The album continues in this manner, spare instrumentation at times and all-out rock n’ roll at others.  While Smith is an excellent piano player, guitar is clearly his instrument.  His use of timing with guitar riffs, electric solos, clean and distorted sounds at various times, and even palm mutes is unsurpassed.

Somehow, Figure 8 achieves an eclectic, indie sound that is both very modern and very nostalgic, particularly of mid to late Beatles work.  It seems no coincidence that Smith purchased authentic Beatles recording equipment throughout his career and even recorded several tracks for this release at the famed Abbey Road Studios in London.

It is difficult to imagine any other singers being more emotive, any other songwriters being so diverse in their styles and interests, or any other performers being so talented, much less all at the same time.  For these reasons, Figure 8 is one of the absolute essential albums of the decade, 2000-2009. It may have barely cracked the upper half of the Billboard Hot 200, but anyone who rejects the radio and the Grammys as the best source for new music knows that this is an unreliable judge of musical character.  Rolling Stone‘s panel of judges came a bit closer by voting this album as the #42 album of the decade, but this is drastically underselling it.  After all, I love Love & Theft, I think Magic is rocking, and White Blood Cells is great, but how these albums can place higher than a true masterpiece like Figure 8, I’ll never know.

And don’t even get me started on U2, Coldplay, Radiohead, and Green Day…

Truly, if you have ever felt rejected, needed to distance yourself from a negative influence, tried to mentally process the pressures of society, or simply been human, Figure 8 is an essential album.

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Son Volt’s “Trace” (1995) – The Weekend Review

By Chris Moore

RATING:  2 / 5  stars

Although Wilco has since gained more critical acclaim, let us not forget that Son Volt was, at least initially, the more successful of the post-Uncle Tupelo groups.  When I fell hard for Wilco a year and a half ago, I went hungrily about, devouring any relevant music I could find:  Jeff Tweedy’s solo work, Golden Smog, the Minus Five, Wilco demos, and back to the source of it all, Uncle Tupelo.  I had an interest in Trace, but I never could find it in physical form on the shelves anywhere.

It took a devoted member of the Jay Farrar message board community to come across my Deep Racks Report on Wilco’s A.M. (1995) and point out my not-so-subtle dismissal of Son Volt for me to realize I had better get serious and find this album.

A year and several spins of their mediocre 2009 record American Central Dust later, I finally stumbled across their debut release in downtown New Haven, CT.

It’s a striking record, a heartfelt, gritty grind through eleven serious songs, Farrar’s characteristic vocal chords creaking at every turn.  The first word that comes to mind is authenticity.  I can see more clearly than ever that Farrar certainly brought that component to Tupelo.  Still, I could have guessed that from A.M.; I love its lyrical bluntness and boneheaded beauty, but Tweedy seemed to be simply passing through town on the way to more experimental music.

Certainly, Uncle Tupelo pioneered the alternative country genre, Tweedy’s interests clearly moving progressively farther to the alternative and, as Trace confirms, Farrar’s predilections being for more pure country – often distortion-soaked, but country all the same.

At best, Trace is a collection of compelling words and instrumentation that gel around what has become a distinctive Son Volt sound.  Still, with the exception of “Drown,” I can’t shake the impression that listening to a Son Volt song is like examining a heartbeat: within the first several seconds, you can predict exactly what is to come for the duration.

Son Volt's "Trace" (1995)

Son Volt's "Trace" (1995)

“Windfall” is a fairly straightforward number, the harmonies and acoustic work kicking off the album on a calm but serious note.  It was most certainly unintentional, but I find the reference here to AM radio representing a “truer sound” quite interesting, considering the title of Wilco’s debut release six months earlier.

The band takes it up a notch on “Live Free,” introducing electric guitar to the mix.  Even here, though, there is nothing groundbreaking.  It is catchy, to be sure, and there is some strumming that verges on being a riff.

Track three retracts that aforementioned notch, but “Tear Stained Eye” is perhaps the most beautiful song on the album.

“Route” has more raw energy than anything that came before, and the band begins to show a bit of disregard for note-for-note perfection — a welcome change.  Still, there is nothing outstanding about “Route” when taken out of context.

If depression is your game, then “Ten Second News” is your song.  As much as I want to skip it, I do acknowledge that, the reference to cancer notwithstanding, it sounds like it could have come directly out of a traditional ballad written who knows how long ago in the who knows where.

Then comes the flagship of this album.  “Drown” has everything that a great rock song should: raw energy, a catchy riff, cool electric soloing, great vocals with hints of harmonies in all the right places.  If there were more songs like this, Trace would have received an altogether different rating from me.

Even after multiple listens, the songs on the remainder of the album begin to blend together for me.  “Loose String” and “Too Early” aren’t bad songs…  They’re just not memorable ones. “Out of the Picture” and “Catching On” have more substance to them, but I can’t avoid noticing the echoes of A.M. in them.  (Why reviewers extolled Trace‘s virtues while so blatantly disregarding the merits of Wilco’s debut, I may never understand.)

Son Volt could not have chosen a more poignant number than their cover of Ron Woods’ “Mystifies Me,” and their version verges on the quintessential.

All in all, I don’t dislike Trace, but I am nonplussed by the attention it has received.  At best, it is a middle of the road release with a handful of fantastic songs.  At worst, it is yet another reason Wilco fans have to be excited about the Uncle Tupelo split.

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