Brandon's Buzz

So, here’s a funny story.

My beloved A — who purchases roughly one album a year, and don’t even ask me how he can live like that! — has been imploring me for months to start sending out some kind of weekly music tipsheet, diverting the ears of anyone who cares to read such a missive toward the major CD releases of the week. He’s always endlessly curious about what I’m listening to (even though he recognizes a precious few of the names I spit at him), and he never fails to ask me, generally on Sunday nights, both if I’ve mapped out a music plan for the week, and what exactly said plan is comprised of.

Anyway, in honor of the fact that my absolute favorite singer-songwriter on the planet – the incomparably divine Tori Amos, natch! – is releasing her ninth (!) studio album on Tuesday, I figured this was as good a week as any to give this a go. Mock if you must – I’m a big boy, I can take it – but herewith: a look at who’s got my rapt attention for the next seven days.

TORI AMOS – American Doll Posse The early reviews on this one have been decidedly mixed (as they were on her last record, the triumphantly stunning 2005 masterpiece The Beekeeper), but here’s what we know: it’s almost 80 minutes long and 23 songs deep (which makes me fear that it’s going to meander aimlessly a bit, just as the 18-track Beekeeper did in its home stretch); leadoff single “Big Wheel” is an unsettling departure from her comfort zone (my darling seems to be consciously ditching the naked confessionals and embracing her inner Robert Plant, yeah?) and, at least on first listen, not nearly as catchy and/or as effective as “Caught a Lite Sneeze” or (especially) “Spark” were in teasing their respective albums (although by including a refrain that consists solely of the words “M-I-L-F / don’t you forget,” she certainly can’t be accused of not keeping things lively and interesting). Here’s what else we know: Tori’s an unqualified genius. She’s released three albums this century, and each one of them contained that year’s hands-down best piece of music (line ‘em up, kids: that spine-tingling cover of “I Don’t Like Mondays” from 2001’s bizarro Strange Little Girls; that exhilarating fuck-you-very-much “Taxi Ride” from 2002’s seminal Scarlet’s Walk; the flawlessly haunting “Martha’s Foolish Ginger” from Beekeeper), and there’s absolutely no reason to believe that it won’t happen again. It’s on sale at Target and Circuit City for $11.99, and evidently the Target edition comes with an exclusive poster. Eat your heart out, Farrah!

KIMBERLEY LOCKE – Based on a True Story I’ve spent most of the past hour listening to this one at VH1.com, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. One of the strongest performers to ever emerge from the “American Idol” factory — she finished third behind Clay and Ruben in 2003 — she released her first album One Love three years ago, buoyed by a magnificent slice of pop nirvana, “8^th World Wonder,” and an ass-kickin’ empowerment anthem called “Wrong” that no fewer than one gay boy (hi!) took and continues to hold close to his heart. This was originally slotted for last fall, but after the first single “Supawoman” stiffed hard at radio, they went back to the drawing board. Smart, that: second single “Change” is a big hit at adult top 40, and the terrific Jason Nevins remix of same is literally saving lives in dancefloors all ‘cross the crunchy. Remember who told ya, boys: this is who’ll be taking Patti LaBelle’s throne someday. $11.99 at Circuit City.

MIRANDA LAMBERT – Crazy Ex-Girlfriend This little girl’s debut record, 2005’s Kerosene, was about as fine a country album as you’re gonna hear this decade, and its singles “Me and Charlie Talking” and the title track about as riveting a radio tandem as anyone in any genre has dared create. I know nothing about this record other than that the title track is twisted and fun, and that I’m gonna own it on Tuesday. $9.99 at Best Buy, Circuit City, and Target, and the Target edition has two bonus tracks.

CHANTAL KREVIAZUK – Ghost Stories I’ve been personally trying to make this brilliant woman a major star for the entire ten year existence of her commercial career, and thus far to little avail. She exploded onto the scene in 1997 with a shattering record called Under These Rocks and Stones (which produced a minor radio hit, “Surrounded,” that gives me just as many chills now as it did back then), and she’s only gotten better with age. (Her last album, 2003’s What If It All Means Something, was just beyond, and its failure to connect remains one of our great tragedies.) She’s actually acquired more fame of late as an in-demand songwriter, having composed Kelly Clarkson’s “Walk Away” and most of the best stuff from the last Avril Lavigne record (speaking of that goofy heifer, how godawful is her latest offering? She’s starting to make Ashlee Simpson look credible!), and now she’s back with her fourth album, ready to try again. My guess is you’ll have to go to Waterloo to find this one (break my heart, why don’t ya!), but trust me when I tell you that’s a small price to pay. This girl’s got it.

Also worth investigating: the soundtrack for Spider Man 3, with new songs from Snow Patrol, The Killers, Rogue Wave, and others. Could be good, could be shitty, but it’s $9.99 at Best Buy. Also, a new record from Leslie Feist, a fascinating torch singer with a pop edge (think Norah Jones crossed with Belinda Carlisle), which is on sale at Best Buy for $7.99. It’s conceivable that your lunch tomorrow will cost more than that!

But wait, this crazy rambling e-mail gets even better! (You didn’t think I was done, did you?) See, a friend and I went in together last Christmas and got A an iPod, and since that time, he’s been asking me regularly for music recommendations and paying a lot more attention to music in general. Now, I’ve tried this in the past and gotten stone-cold nowhere (because the man buys one album a year, and it’s almost always in Russian!), but I’m starting to feel for the poor child, because his iTunes library has, like, nineteen songs in it, and one of them is the abominable “My Humps.”

Anyway, here’s his latest vow: he’s told me, more than once, that he’ll give me a small weekly budget (i.e. under five dollars) if I’ll dutifully point his ears in worthwhile directions. I’ve been laughing the idea off for months now, because the vast majority of my recommendations have landed with thuds powerful enough to set off tsunamis, but as a test case a few weeks ago, I threw out three recent songs that I’m crazy about right now (in case you’re curious, Martina McBride’s “Everybody Does” off her new album, Amy Winehouse’s terrific new smash-in-waiting “Rehab,” and Lovedrug’s latest, “Everything Starts Where It Ends”), and I’ll be damned if he didn’t go to iTunes and buy two of those three! (I’ll let him tell you which he deemed unworthy, but let me add as a pre-emptive addendum that all three of those tracks are great songs.) Had you told me beforehand that he would actually take me up on this, I’d have laughed hard enough to puncture my liver, but I’m quite happy to report that he really does seem to be coming around. The clouds are parting, my friends!

There’s a great music blog at USA Today’s website, wherein their music critics create a weekly playlist with an eclectic mix of ten old and new songs, just whatever is enthralling them at any given moment, and it’s a super-fun read. And I listen to so much music every week that I decided A’s idea is worth pursuing. I decided I was equal to this task.

It has long been my belief that, whether it’s singing in the shower or writing “Hey Jude,” making music is by far the finest act we undertake as mere mortals (as Alfre Woodard put it years ago, “keeping the lore of the tribe”). A great piece of music can be a talisman, a sword, a breath. Stumbling across a new favorite song is one of those timeless, fleeting instances where innocence and wisdom collide, leaving in their wakes a haven, a respite. In a world ruled and fueled by so much treachery and hatred — a world in which clearly disturbed kids can legally purchase multiple guns, a world in which ministers can pray their gayness right out of their hair — that kind of inviolable simplicity still seems like a pretty great tool to have in your back pocket.

The deal is simply this (and, if you talk to him, you must hold him to it): he is obliged to listen to the thirty-second previews of all the songs I name in this section of the tipsheet, and he has to buy at least one of them. (We haven’t discussed that caveat yet, A, because it just now came to me.) This way, he’s guaranteed weekly exposure to at least one brilliant swath of new music, and at a cool ninety-nine cents a pop, he’s getting his ticket to heaven punched one stunning song at a time.

So, to inaugurate the weekly tipsheet and to commemorate the week’s (and the year’s?) marquee release, I present, as my first at-bat, an all-Tori playlist. These aren’t necessarily my all-time favorite Tori tracks, but they’re spectacular songs, and they’re leagues better than anything Britney Spears ever thought about affixing her name to.

1. “Tear in Your Hand” (from Little Earthquakes) — according to my iTunes, this is the most played Tori track in my library. Small wonder, that: by turns terrifying and heartbreaking — “maybe she’s just / pieces of me / you’ve never seen”, yes? — it’s the unsung hero of a genuinely killer debut album.

2. “Past the Mission” (from Under the Pink) — I’ve talked about this one many, many times in the past, but it’s such an incredibly dense, riveting song that the mere word classic seems so meek and ordinary.

3. “Lust” (from To Venus and Back) — Venus is still easily the weakest of her original works (Strange Little Girls was a covers album, so that doesn’t quite count), but thanks to last year’s Amos box set, I’ve gained a new appreciation for most of the album’s songs that I had previously brushed past. This possesses a chorus that’s stickier than spilled Coke, and a lyrical image at its core (“she prays for a prankster / and lust in the marriage bed”) that is haunting and magical.

4. “Cooling” (from A Piano: The Collection) — if there’s a better lyric in the entire Tori canon than “and is your place in heaven / worth giving up these kisses / these kisses?” then I defy you to point it out. Or sing it better.

5. “Beulah Land” (from A Piano: The Collection) — of all the legendary Tori b-sides, here’s the inarguable best of them. Maybe it’s the sterling performance, or the goosebump-inducing gospel choir at the end, or the plaintive, bravely desperate way Amos sings the line “maybe I don’t / wanna go to live / where you’re not” heading into the final verse. Or maybe it’s none of those. But it’s definitely something.