Brandon's Buzz

Chantal Kreviazuk — “Surrounded”
(from Under These Rocks and Stones) —

Another discussion for another day is why, in spite of her status as a go-to writer of agile, dependably catchy pop tunes (her work has been snapped up by the likes of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, Gwen Stefani, even my beloved Hilary Duff), the magnificent Kreviazuk has never — at least not here in the States, despite having crafted four exquisite, exhilarating albums — become the megastar she has always, always deserved to be. This one — a wrenching portrait of a best friend’s senseless suicide — knocked me flat when I first heard it thirteen years ago, and it still gets me where I live. Every time.

Westlife — “When You’re Looking Like That”
(from Unbreakable: The Greatest Hits, Vol. 1) —

An instant sensation across the pond, Daddy Clive tried his damnedest to make these guys stateside stars, and even shepherded their debut single “Swear It Again” to the top of the charts at the turn of the century. But America had other plans, because by then, we had become weary of our own boy bands, and we weren’t about to throw our arms around a group of Bri’ish teenyboppers that we didn’t grow ourselves. Too bad, that, because these guys were (and remain) ferociously talented, and not by half did the Backstreet Boys ever have material this great.

Kings of Leon — “Manhattan” (from Only By the Night) —

The countdown has already begun toward the October 19 arrival of Come Around Sundown, the white-hotly-anticipated fifth studio album — and first this side of Night, the thrilling opus that made them instant stars — from those tantalizing Tennessee titans Kings of Leon. But I’ll happily confess that I have yet to unlock and unravel all of Night‘s ravishing mysteries, perfectly notwithstanding the fact that that disc contiunes to stay in heavy rotation in my house two full years after its release. This tune — an epic, electrifying ode to tripping the light fantastic — is sparse lyrically, but the peerless Caleb Followill’s dynamic (and, in its own odd way, quite delicate) vocal performance is just extraordinary to behold.

The work schedule was beyond crazy this weekend, which is why I had to flake on yesterday’s honey from the hive (although I did manage to scribble it out on a miniature legal pad, and I am mere moments from typing it up and plugging it into today’s slot). But if you missed any of the remainder of last week’s tunes, below is a quick recap. (Incidentally, I’ve an update to Thursday’s 90210 discussion: Sherry Ann sent me a couple of great snapshots of the scrapbook yesterday, and I’ll be posting those later this week, as soon as I can get them from my phone to my computer.)

MONDAY: Dave Matthews — “Gravedigger” (from Some Devil) —

TUESDAY: Pat Benatar — “All Fired Up” (from Best Shots) —

WEDNESDAY: Tanya Tucker — “Down to My Last Teardrop”
(from 20 Greatest Hits) —

THURSDAY: Chris Isaak — “Wicked Game”
(from Heart Shaped World) —

FRIDAY: Tori Amos — “I Don’t Like Mondays”
(from Strange Little Girls) —

SATURDAY: Annie Lennox — “A Whiter Shade of Pale”
(from Medusa) —

Annie Lennox — “A Whiter Shade of Pale” (from Medusa) —

Sherry Ann and I have this thing we call “The Annie Lennox Rule,” which simply states that once Annie has lent her golden pipes to a particular tune, said tune has been officially and irrevocably sung. And so it holds here, as Procol Harum’s densely cinematic, drug-addled classic becomes, in Ms. Lennox’s eminently capable hands, a lush, wistful, dreamlike masterpiece.

Tori Amos — “I Don’t Like Mondays” (from Strange Little Girls) —

A and I trekked down to Austin’s Alamo Drafthouse last night to join in the obscenely awesome fun of the ’90s alternative sing-along, hands down my all-time favorite among the Action Pack’s festivities. For damn sure, we got our quota filled of classic Smashing Pumpkins, Stone Temple Pilots, Bush, and No Doubt. (We even got a little Jamiroquai tossed in for good measure!) And of course, we all in that theater got our moment in the sun to scream along with Eddie as he relayed a riveting story about King Jeremy the Wicked. And that got me thinking about other songs about school shootings and apeshit-crazy teenagers, which naturally led me to
The Boomtown Rats’ “I Don’t Like Mondays,” and that immediately brought me to my astonishing Ms. Amos, and to her devastating 2001 cover of same. How crazy-brilliant is Tori? Here’s how: The Rats’ Bob Geldof sang his take on “Mondays” from the point of view of the confused little girl who inaugurates a fresh week by opening fire on her classmates; Tori, meantime, without changing a damned syllable of the text, unspools the same story from the point of view of the peace officer who first encounters the carnage. You’d best believe this was dicey stuff a decade ago, released as it was in the immediate wake of 9/11, but rarely has such wrenching, raw material emerged this riveting, or this breathtakingly cool.

All kinds of musical blasts from the past are on tap this week as August draws to a close. Nothing much earth-shattering here, but there is quite a bit to have fun with here. Take a look:

 

They may not hold sway on the charts and at pop radio the way they once did in their respective heydays — the late ’80s for the ladies, with unforgettable smashes like their 1987 classic “Alone” and their turn-of-the-decade touchstone “All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You,” and the late ’90s for the guys, with their twin triumphs from 1998, “Iris” and “Slide” — but they are responsible for some of the most-loved music of all time, and this week, the Wilson sisters — you know ’em better as Heart — and Johnny Rzeznik and his Goo Goo Dolls each return this week from extended hiatuses with hot new recordings. Heart is back with Red Velvet Car, their first album since 2004’s Jupiter’s Darling, and the tender lead single “Hey You” is already getting a surprisingly warm reception at adult contemporary radio. Meanwhile, aside from a terrific pair of hits collections, we’ve heard nary a peep from Rzeznik and his band since their 2006 effort Let Love In, but the Dolls are back on the playground with their ninth album, Something for the Rest of Us, and early word has it that the record is a tight, typically polished collection of tunes designed to keep their fans — a group in which I proudly include myself — happy and hungry for more.

(more…)

Chris Isaak — “Wicked Game” (from Heart Shaped World) —

Sherry Ann resides foremost in my thoughts on this morning of this day, September 2, 2010. 9-02-10. See, when we were but young, hormone-propelled high school churren, Beverly Hills, 90210 was not so much a mere television show as it was an obsession — for the world’s youth at large, to be sure, but specifically for us. (True story: at the beginning of sophomore year, with all the latitude that her allowance would permit, Sherry Ann schlepped from store to store buying up all the teen magazines — anybody out there remember Teen Beat? Or Bop!? — that she could find, as the periodicals were literally littered from cover to cover with photographs, posters, stickers, and images of the show’s sickeningly photogenic cast. She then delivered unto me this ridiculous pile of magazines, and I swear to Jesus, I sat on her living room floor for an entire weekend with a pair of scissors clipping out pictures and text for the sole purpose of cobbling together a 90210 scrapbook for my best friend in the world, a scrapbook that she’ll swear to this day still exists, even though she hasn’t allowed me or anyone else to touch or even lay naked eyes on it since its completion.) And on this day, I can think of no more appropriate song to emanate from the hive’s speakers than this one, a haunting and nearly ethereal tune that became an all-time smash in large part because of its use underscoring a pivotal Dylan/Brenda reconciliation scene that Sherry Ann made me watch, rewind, watch, rewind, and watch again roughly 17,000 times. Much love to you on all days, my dear, but most especially on this one.

Tanya Tucker — “Down to My Last Teardrop”
(from 20 Greatest Hits) —

Hilarious and highly improbable though it may seem, that notorious country-phobe A has become quite taken with one Tanya Tucker this summer (kid you not, if I hear “Delta Dawn” wafting from his general direction one more time, I’m literally gonna choke him), but while he is quite familiar with the iconic material she produced in her teenage years, he is almost completely unacquainted with the blistering tunes which marked the dynamic second act of her storied career. Darling, consider this sassy, catchy kiss-off a terrific introduction to the rest of the story.