Left of the Dial

Lisztomania

So a while back I posted a previous, fan-made video for the official studio recording of this song. 

Well, here's a live version that's nearly as captivating. 

I Gotta Feeling

So I first saw this about three months ago now. At the time, I'd never actually heard the song before, but it hooked me immediately, even though I'm not a fan of the band. But the song's catchy and the video--entirely in one take--is just magnificent. 

So although many of you have probably seen this, here 'tis anyway. I've probably watched it a dozen times by now. I didn't love college--it was okay--but I think if I'd gone to this school, I would have enjoyed it a lot more. (Provided, of course, that Top Management was there too.)

Hope you have a good night. 

Smooth Jazz

More like smothered jazz. 

I've pretty wide-ranging, catholic tastes. There are a few genres with which I haven't really clicked—such as opera, although I love classical—but I keep hoping I will someday. 

And then there's smooth jazz, which is utterly devoid of any value whatsoever, as far as I can see. 

Very briefly and oversimplifying, I've always felt music shouldn't be safe. It should be dangerous in some way, pushing some boundaries somehow. Beethoven, Robert Johnson, Hank Williams, John Coltrane, the Sex Pistols, to name just a very few, they all did in different ways. 

Smooth jazz, though, is just aural wallpaper, meant to be comforting and virtually invisible. But it's not. It's artificial and pervasive and saccharine and just, to use a technical term, yucky.  The musicians are uniformly masters of their instruments. They simply have nothing to say. But they keep flapping their gums anyway. 

This says it ever so much better that I could. 

Wait Times

So I heard some one yell about wait times the other day. And I thought, "...really? That talking point? Still?"

Every time I've tried to make an appointment with a doctor in the past decade, I've had to wait at least a week and more often up to a few months. And specialists? Please. I had a dermatologist tell me that it'd be six months before they could get me in. 

It's not so much the oddness of the long wait times—though it is that as well—as the total disconnect between the reality I've observed and the stuff I've heard spewed. Which is what I thought when I read this from James Fallows, an Atlantic Monthly writer who just returned to the States after three years living in China. 

I think the US consumer economy would still be in free-fall if we hadn't come back. We show up from China needing new of everything. Clothes. Camera. Two computers, plus monitors and backup drives. Housewares. Shoes. At least one fridge, probably a stove. Radios/sound system. TVs. You name the item, and the version we have is road-worn, obsolete, broken, or gone. (Sadly for Detroit, not cars: Our two, vintage 1999 and 2000 respectively and stored with friends, still seem just fine. Sorry!) Our house needs to be repainted-- and re-roofed, and re-drivewayed, and its trees trimmed. That's just a start. Good thing we saved up in those days of 20RMB noodle/dumpling dinners. And, yes, many of the items we're getting were made in China. You just can't buy them there.

Here's the surprise: We call to get service appointments, and people show up right away. Air conditioning not working in 90-degree DC swelter? We make a call one evening, and the next day it's all fixed. Plumbing clogged and leaky? A few hours later, it's not. Need the car looked at, after three years in the shed? Call the service place and the only question is: do I want to bring it in this afternoon? Or wait till tomorrow? On a Sunday, we see that a tree is dying in the back yard. By Monday afternoon, it is converted into neatly stacked wood.

These are all people and services we'd dealt with before, but in those days we learned to plan weeks in advance for service calls. America still looks incredibly rich and lush. But this little indicator suggests lots of slack in anything considered a discretionary purchase. Not startling in principle, but impressive to encounter first-hand.

Only exception: I call to get an appointment for a physical exam with our doctor -- a good but "normal" doctor, not some fancy physician to the stars. First available slot, mid-November. I have no theory for this anomaly.

So. We have wait times. It's similar to the way folks are still using the "if you like the post office, just wait until the goverment takes over all health care!" line. Because apparently polls show people really like the postal service. 

And with good reason. It's cheap and efficient and reliable. And the tunes? Fugheddabout!

Peace, Love & Understanding

Ah, time. It makes young punks (well, sorta) old but, hopefully, wiser. 

I don't know about that, but I do know that the quiet assurance and mastery on display here is a thing to behold. The harmony Elvis adds on the word "harmony" is gorgeous and unexpected. And a Gibson Explorer acoustic? And the impossibly great James Burton on electric guitar? And Nick Lowe's totally awesome hair? How great is this?  

Blues and country have long had great esteem for its elder statesmen, giving them major props for continuing and upholding the tradition, even when they were long past the point of breaking new ground or adding major new works. Rock didn't have that, not for a long time. For one thing, its earliest major figures either died or left the business or went to jail. (Yes, I'm oversimplifying.) It's really only been in the past 15 years that we've had rock and rollers grow up and get undeniably middle-aged or older and had some—most prominently Dylan and Springsteen—produce works commensurate with their years and if not as great as their very best work, at least able to stand alongside it proudly. 

I can't help but notice that where it used to be assumed that this song was tongue-in-cheek and widely misinterpreted, these guys now appear to singing it absolutely straightforward. Was the common perception that it was commonly misperceived mistaken? Or has time, which Lowe once claimed wounds all heels, simply changed their outlook? 

Solsbury Hill

Oh, Left of the Dial. I've not forgotten you, I swear. We have so much to catch up. And we will, I promise.

Just not tonight. 

But I've got a present for you. It's a fine--though far from my favorite--version of one of my all-time songs...but one Top Management likes even more. The catchiest song in 7/4 time ever? I can think of none catchier. Such a beautiful breakup song that it's hard to imagine the boys in the old band weren't moved. And the best ever song written about Bruce Springsteen. 

I Want You Back

My new favorite cover ever:

The Carrot Highway

There are times I am so very glad I didn't decide I loved music so much that I would attempt to make my life in the music industry. 

Like these folks: 

 

Aquaman's Lament

So I've listened to this song probably a dozen times over the past couple days. I've spent a bizarrely large percentage of my life thinking about the Batman, but I always loved Aquaman as a kid: we both had blonde hair and loved to swim, and that's about the extent of my introspection. 

And I must say, the King of the Seven Seas makes a good argument, especially when it comes to the unlimited free seafood. 

He, of course, doesn't understand just what it is that makes the Dark Knight not just the greatest comic book character ever but, in fact, one of the greatest characters in the history of fiction full stop. But that's okay, as the song's from Aquaman's POV. The homoerotic angle's kinda been done to death, but we can overlook that given its other charms. 

One thing, though, Mark, if you're reading this: awesome job, oh so catchy, love pretty much everything about it. Except this bit: 

Have you ever got the notion
That he's just a rat with wings
I'm the king of seven oceans
And, Vicki, you're my everything

would work better as:

Have you ever got the notion
That he's just a rat with wings
I'm the king of seven oceans
And I want you to be my queen

Tell you what, you can have it, free of charge. 

Ragtime 80s

So I'm going to just post YouTube vidyos from now on. Because I no longer have anything even remotely worthwhile to say. If I ever did. 

So...here. 

Would it be overly pedantic to point out that ragtime is never supposed to be played quickly? That this is actually stride and not ragtime? Either way, boy can play.