Brandon's Buzz

Hello again, mes amies

So, last week’s edition of Brandon’s Tips was such a smashing success that a sequel was almost inevitable. First up, however: the man to whom this was all targeted was ever-so-slightly offended by one or two of my comments in the previous tipsheet, and requested a chance to redeem himself in all of your eyes. I told him by all means to take his very best shot, but as you read his forthcoming missive, bear this in mind: I met this man on a warm May evening two years ago, and he, at that time, was so sonically deprived, so musically malnourished, that he was able to look me in the eye and proclaim that country music was the work of the devil, only to turn around and ask me — with a perfectly straight face, mind you! — who Michael Stipe was. I knew instantly that I had my work cut out for me, and I’m boundlessly proud to know that, two years on, he not only recognizes names like Tori Amos and Chantal Kreviazuk, but he’s able to use them in complete sentences. That’s progress by any yardstick.

There remains work to be done, though. Just weeks ago, this man was one scant mouse-click away from buying one of those unspeakably wretched re-recordings of “American Pie” that Don McLean turned in in the ’80s so that he could pay the rent. Thank Jesus I caught wind of this and was able to swoop in and save him from himself (I had to threaten to never speak to him again, ever, but I managed to get him down from the ledge). I mean, I fancy myself an open-minded guy, but blasphemy is blasphemy no matter what color it’s wearin’.

At any rate, ladies and gentlemen: A’s rebuttal. (Note: Editor’s notes in bold.)

A response to Brandon’s Tips of May 1 by A

May 6, 2007

I was just as surprised as any of you, dear readers, to find the May 1 edition of Brandon’s Tips. In my youth, this International Day of Workers’ Solidarity used to bring such “gifts” as red scarves, portraits of the great Lenin and — as history will tell us — the even greater Gorbachev, and numerous versions of The International, a Communist anthem, sung in more than 100 languages of the former USSR and in at least another six of the Warsaw Pact countries. (Can you find that on iTunes?) Fortunately, these “gifts” stopped coming in 1990, and May 1 became just another day on the calendar, like April 30 or May 2. Thus, the arrival of Brandon’s Tips on May 1 was a pleasant and interesting surprise (and one that, fortunately, did not contain The International). I hope that it develops into a weekly tradition, making every Tuesday a day to eye with anticipation and excitement.

As is virtually always the case with Brandon’s references to me, the inaugural newsletter had a few, how shall we put it, hyperbolic errors, ones that, taken literally, make me look like a caveman when it comes to contemporary music (even if a cute and lovable caveman as in the Geico commercials, but a caveman nonetheless). So, let’s get those out of the way at the beginning. First, as lovely and prime as the number nineteen is, I own more than 19 songs in my iTunes library; in fact, it’s more like 1,372, or more than a month’s worth of continuous playing time (even one with 31 days!). Second, I buy more than one CD a year, though, to be honest, probably less than twelve, so at least Brandon is not off by a factor of 72 there! And third, while I do own My Humps, I have learned my lesson well, especially through the public flogging I received in the edge-of-spring mixtape last year (have pity on me, people!). So, let’s hope that we leave that one giant misstep way back in 2005, never to be resurrected in my actions or anyone’s writing every again.

And now, let’s get to the real content of this missive. Brandon has been telling me about the release of American Doll Posse, the new Tori Amos album, for weeks, months, if not an entire year! I was very happy when the album finally came out, having heard Brandon’s exultations of Tori virtually every day (ok, every week) since we have met. (As I’ve often said, me and Tori are a package deal. Like Jack and Coke.) I have listened to only one song from this album, namely Tori’s performance of Big Wheel on the Late Show with David Letterman last Thursday night. I shall have to give the album a much more thorough listen, for whatever the song on Letterman was, it did not strike me nearly as much as Song for Eric, Jamaica Inn, or Past the Mission. (And so, now you know one of two of Brandon’s five iTunes suggestions I followed this week. The other is Beulah Land). Perhaps Brandon can give us an update on, if not a proper review of, the album in an upcoming newsletter. (A full review of ADP is forthcoming, just as soon as I can get my brain wrapped around it. Damn, that’s a dense, angry record! Stay tuned.)

I was also very happy to see that Chantal Kreviazuk’s album, Ghost Stories, was finally released in the US last week. Over the last year, I have grown to like this Canadian singer with a very Ukrainian last name (though in that case, she would be Chantal Krevia-ZOOK, not Krevi-AH-zuk), especially her songs Julia (or Julia-a-a-a-ah) and Before You. Consequently, I am curious what this album brings us, and I trust Brandon will soon enlighten us. (A quick first impression: it’s much more pop-leaning than any of her previous efforts, and while I’m not sure how I feel about the idea — only because she’s so good at pensive introspection — the execution has its moments, most notably “Waiting for the Sun.”) Perhaps you can put a few of the new songs in the iTunes suggestions list? Hint, hint…

I would like to conclude with a suggestion of my own. (You’re right to be a bit nervous here.) While perusing the calendar of concerts at the Walt Disney Concert Hall – yes, that amazing Frank Gehry masterpiece (or monstrosity, depending your point of view) that is the home of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and, in the words of our music writer, “the coolest perch in LA” – I came across a concert by a band called DeVotchka. Now, the word devotchka is Russian for “girl,” and the concert itself is called Russian Chanson, so naturally I was extremely curious. As it turns out, their music is neither Russian nor Russian-like, but rather as the band’s web site claims, “a disparate, yet articulate union of Eastern European, Southwestern, South American, and American roots music, both punk and folk.” In any case, some of it seems interesting, if not downright good. So, let me suggest a few tracks: The Last Beat of My Heart, The End of Time, Such a Lovely Thing, and Queen of the Surface Streets. A point of trivia: this Denver-based band provided the soundtrack for the 2006 film Little Miss Sunshine.

And Brandon, keep it up! I am waiting for the second installment! (Keep readin’, babe!)

OK, on to this week’s tips. It’s actually a very light week, which, in the wake of last week’s heavy schedule, is probably a big ol’ blessing. There’s a new album from Iceland’s favorite daughter Bjork this week, but that heifer is apeshit crazy, and every time I lay eyes on her, all I can think of is that bizarro swan dress she wore to the Oscars seven years ago. (In fact, the only thing of hers that hasn’t completely gone flying right over my head was the freaky 1993 remix of her breakthrough single “Human Behaviour” (to which I once devoted an entire grueling afternoon whittling down from its original twelve-minute length to a much sleeker five-minute edit; in the immortal words of 10cc, the things we do for love).) Also new this week, a new set of rarities and live performances from the late Elliott Smith, another singer/songwriter whose work I’ve never really connected with. (I loved his contribution to the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, “Miss Misery,” and a couple of songs on his major-label debut album, but the main thing I remember him for — another Oscar memory! — is the look of sheer terror on his face when he was sandwiched in betwixt Celine Dion and Trisha Yearwood at the 1998 Academy Awards after they had all performed their nominated songs in rapid-fire succession. The boy looked like he was afraid Celine’s gaudy asteroid-belt necklace was about to attack him!)

Barnes and Noble is advertising an exclusive greatest hits set for the divine Linda Eder, whom I’ve adored from the second I saw her on “Regis and Kathie Lee” some eleven years ago singing the love theme from Broadway’s Jekyll and Hyde, the entrancing “Someone Like You.” It makes the cut here, and it’s probably a good place to start if you’re unfamiliar with Eder and her terrific, intoxicating voice, although I could have made the tracklist much stronger if only I’d been consulted. (I’d have started by including her best-ever song, a shoulda-beena-smash from 2002 called “Until I Don’t Love You Anymore.”) Speaking of big voices, perhaps the biggest of them all — the one belonging to La Streisand — is back on record this week, with an album culled from her most recent concert tour. I, myself, own The Essential Barbra Streisand, so hopefully that’ll give me immunity against them coming to revoke my gay card if I give this new thing a defiant “ehhh.”

What is perhaps the most egregious example of rampant greed I’ve seen in forever is on deck this week: yet another release — number six, by my count — of the legendary Dirty Dancing soundtrack. This one is billed as a “special 20^th anniversary edition” and is being touted as including all the music from the movie in order. Big whoo: so did Ultimate Dirty Dancing two years ago, and so did Dirty Dancing: The Deluxe Edition in 1998. (I know this, because I own both of those!) Anyhow, if you don’t already have it (and if you don’t: seriously?!), you can pick it up at Circuit City for $11.99. (And, if you buy it with the 20^th anniversary edition DVD, you can get both for a cool twenty-five smackers.)

Best Buy has decided to include Chantal Kreviazuk in their latest Find ‘Em First initiative, which means you can pick up her latest CD Ghost Stories for $7.99. In addition, they’re advertising that their version of the album comes with a bonus disc containing two extra tracks. I have no idea what the two extra tracks are, but I know this: if those no-good bitches make it so enticing that I have to buy that damn record twice, I’m gonna be livid. Also in that campaign: Baby 81, the latest effort from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I picked this up last week out of curiosity, and found it to be riveting: an electric, propulsive rock record, every bit the album that The Killers’ sophomore CD — the arrogantly boring Sam’s Town — should have been and wasn’t. It’s definitely worth a listen; the album’s opener “Took Out a Loan” makes you wonder why we’ve been humoring Nickelback for as long as we have.

So, sad as this sounds, I guess that means this week’s marquee release is (ahem) Straight Up!, a greatest hits collection from the one and only Paula Abdul. Believe me, I know how ridiculous that sounds — if you’re in the mood for an Abdul best-of, you can just whip out your dusty old copy of Forever Your Girl and piss on the fire, yes? (And don’t pretend you don’t have one somewhere!) What’s hysterical — and what makes me feel so desperately old — is that there is now an entire generation of chillins who only knows her from “American Idol” and who has no idea that once upon a time, in that strange period of limbo between late-’80s cheesecake and early-’90s grunge, Miss Paula was responsible for some of the best pop music going. (“Cold Hearted” was the jam at every single 8^th grade dance, and that freaky video where she danced with the animated cat was pretty much the highlight of my 1990, people.) At long last, they have their chance to see from whence that spacey ditz came.

And that brings us most excitedly to this week’s playlist. All this Paula Abdul talk has me waxing nostalgic tonight for the music of the spring of 1990, one of the monumental seasons of my whole life. It was when my lifelong best friend Sherry and I became utterly inseparable. It was when I met my first girlfriend (don’t worry, it ended disastrously before summer was even over). It was when my then-favorite TV show, that eternal classic “Beauty and the Beast” (God love Linda Hamilton!), was unceremoniously dumped after Jeff Sagansky took over as president of CBS and decided to cancel everything in one bold swing of the network axe. It was when one of the finest vocal performances ever captured — Rod Stewart’s ferocious take on “Downtown Train” — propelled me into the seventh sky. And it was when these five songs staked a claim on music history.

1. “All Around the World” – Lisa Stansfield — Stinnett, Texas barely had cable television when I was a kid. We were damn lucky to get the local Amarillo affiliates, so you can imagine that MTV was just a pipe dream. So my only exposure to music videos was Night Tracks, a late-night block of videoclips that TBS (God love Ted Turner!) used to show on Fridays and Saturdays. (Know that I’m not kidding when I tell you that I used to stay up all night soaking up all this mad brilliance, and that I used to curse Major League Baseball whenever the Atlanta Braves games would go into overtime and delay the start of Night Tracks Chartbusters, the weekly top-10 video countdown that played on Saturday nights.) I’m not sure what the point of the preceding story was, but I’ll never forget the first time I saw the video for this song, and how Lisa Stansfield had that freaky curl of hair plastered to the center of her forehead. I knew instantly that I was being exposed to magnificence. One of the finest dance tracks (and one of the least-deserving one-hit wonders) ever.

2. “Janie’s Got a Gun” – Aerosmith — No question, there are bigger Aerosmith fans on the planet than me. Still, David Fincher’s eye-popping video turned this into a (justifiably) monster hit, and it’s a shame that it often gets overlooked in any discussion of this band’s greatest songs. There was nothing like it on the radio at the time, and there still ain’t.

3. “Nothing Compares 2 U” – Sinead O’Connor — the aformentioned first girlfriend was named Erin. Sappy as it sounds, this was our song. We both loved it. True story: after learning how to do calligraphy, I stole a sheet of golden parchment paper from Midge Lemley’s art class and wrote out the lyrics, putting painstaking care into every last letter, as a gift for her. (At our 10-year class reunion a few years ago, she told me she still has it!) Let it suffice to say that my opinion of this song is pretty much the only thing I own that survived that relationship completely intact. (Another true story: Michael Stipe credits this song’s super-stark video — with that scary close-up shot of Sinead’s bald head and a tear running down her cheek as she sang the end chorus — with making it okay for him to lip-synch on film, a decision that directly led to his own brilliant video for “Losing My Religion” just months later. You go, girl!)

4. “Star” – Erasure — they wouldn’t hit their creative zenith for another six years, with 1996’s deliriously infectious “Fingers and Thumbs,” but with this terrific track, Andy and Vince made us a promise they’re still coming through on.

5. “Don’t Wanna Fall in Love” – Jane Child — there were so many great songs I could have put in this fifth slot — matter of fact, one of these weeks I’m gonna have to do an all-Roxette playlist just to do that band justice — but in keeping with the apparent theme of iconic music video images, am I the only one who remembers the clip for this song, with Jane’s funky mullet and that chain that connected her nose ring to her earring that looked just like a perfectly-curved line of snot on her face? You’ll never convince me that wasn’t the reason this song became a number one hit. Ever.