Lorrie Morgan — “Good As I Was to You” (from To Get to You
Or, as Sherry Ann once called this one,
“What, Are You Joking With This?”
Kris Allen — “Alright With Me” (from Kris Allen
Sure, it gets a bit repetitive after a bit, and lyrically, it’s about as deep as a mud puddle. No matter: if this horn-drenched stunner doesn’t have you snapping your fingers and squealing with glee from the heart of your happy place inside of sixty seconds, there might be something seriously wrong with you.
Bernard Butler — “Not Alone” (from People Move On
A Britpop wunderkind who was a phenom across the pond but ignored here, despite killer tunes like this, an exhilarating epic which joyously and brilliantly bounces off the wall of sound like a
Nerf ball headed for heaven.
“Watch for this international man of music as he continues to spread love and positive vibrations wherever he goes.”
— a South Africa-based spammer writing under the moniker of Artists Paper, whose primary sentiments (and downright elegant turns of phrase, all of which got tangled up in the Buzz’s spam filter several days ago) I found far too lovely to flush down the wormhole forever.
Norah Jones — “Jesus, Etc. (Sad, Sad Songs)”
(from The Fall [Deluxe Edition]
Wonders still don’t cease: just when you thought this much-Grammyed critics’ darling (and human insomnia cure) had all but entirely abandoned her sense of humor, she unleashes this, a frisky, footloose cover of an underrated Wilco classic. If you’re anything like me, you’ll find that slightly flirty growl in her voice as bewitching as spit-shined sin, and if you’re anything at all like me, you’ll wonder where in hell she’s been hiding it all this time.
Last weekend, the Buzz inaugurated a new “song of the day” feature entitled Honey from the Hive, and if I do say so myself, the debut week of this endeavor was a smashing success. (Judging solely by the empirical evidence, tonight this site is finishing up its most heavily-visited week in nearly five months, which tells me that readers enjoyed their initial drops of honey and decided to come on back for more helpings.) And just in case you missed any of last week’s tunes, allow me to offer up a quick recap:
SUNDAY: Dierks Bentley (featuring Del McCoury & The Punch Brothers) —
“Pride (In the Name of Love)” (from Up on the Ridge
MONDAY: Melissa Etheridge — “Fearless Love” (from Fearless Love
TUESDAY: Tara MacLean — “If I Fall” (from Passenger
WEDNESDAY: John Mellencamp — “Case 795 (The Family)”
(from Human Wheels
THURSDAY: Dido — “Mary’s in India” (from Life for Rent
FRIDAY: Laura Branigan — “Spanish Eddie” (from The Best of Branigan
SATURDAY: Sara Bareilles — “King of Anything” (from Kaleidoscope Heart
SUNDAY: George Jones — “The King is Gone (So Are You)”
(from 16 Biggest Hits
George Jones — “The King is Gone (So Are You)”
(from 16 Biggest Hits
A dark night in the life of a drunk, lovelorn fool: Elvis squares off against Fred Flintstone in a winner-take-all battle for a soul cast adrift in this raucous romp from a true crunchy legend.
Sara Bareilles — “King of Anything” (from Kaleidoscope Heart
To here, I’ve had precious little use for this gal, whose meandering melodies have rarely failed to drive me anything other than batshit crazy. (A quick search of the Buzz archives reveals no fewer than seven previous posts echoing that very sentiment.) But give Bareilles credit for this much: she beats the sophomore jinx big time with this funky lead single — which has clearly been influenced by doo-wop-era ditties from The Shirelles and The Marvelettes — from her forthcoming second album.
Laura Branigan — “Spanish Eddie” (from The Best of Branigan
The tune, much like the harrowingly eventful evening it chronicles, is a dizzying, elliptical riddle, set masterfully to a killer, typically ’80s synth-pop beat, but the brilliant Branigan — easily the most underappreciated of the aforementioned decade’s divas — blows the roof off the joint relaying the tale of how a man’s murder (or is it suicide?) leads to Dylan, destiny, and some damn oddly-flavored lemon gin. A mad masterpiece.
Dido — “Mary’s in India” (from Life for Rent
A spare, fabulously sly story song (replete with a twist ending that you’ll smell coming and love anyway) which proves that love triangles don’t necessarily have to be confined to soap operas.
John Mellencamp — “Case 795 (The Family)”
(from Human Wheels
A not-so-subtle reminder (courtesy of the most relevant tune Bob Dylan never wrote) that we all — the social worker, the newspaper reporter, the next-door neighbor — are in this mess together.
Tara MacLean — “If I Fall” (from Passenger
Funny how the memory works: I quite sincerely can’t name five things on this Earth that I love doing more than CD shopping with my best friend Sherry Ann, and every single time I hear this song — a moody, magnificent triumph from gorgeous Canadian chick who, sadly, never got a fair shake south of her own border — I flash back to the night ten years ago when Sherry and I stood before the new release wall inside of Hastings in College Station, Texas, and literally battled, tug-of-war style (and I am not making that up!), over the lone copy of Passenger that the store had in stock. (As I recall, I ended up letting her win, partly because I’m a nice guy, and partly because I didn’t wish to embarrass myself any further than I already had; as I was wearing a Longhorns t-shirt to begin with, I was already a clearly-marked outsider in enemy territory. Like Kenny once said, you better know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em.)
Another slow-ish week on tap, although one of the true seminal recordings of the ’90s returns to print in a triumphant new deluxe edition re-release, and that’s more than enough cause for celebration. Behold:
Never one to shy away from his own ambitious nature, the legendary Sting returns this week with Symphonicities, a gorgeous new record of orchestral reworkings of some of his best-loved recordings. To his credit, he largely shies away from the iconic hits — at very least, give the man credit for seemingly being smart enough to understand that he managed to nail tunes like “Every Breath You Take” and “Fields of Gold” and “Wrapped Around Your Finger” the first time, and that there was no need to mess with perfection — in favor of deeper album cuts, but if it has been a while since you’ve given “Roxanne” or “Englishman in New York” your full attention, this record may just be up your alley.
