‘Sweet Side,’ from Lucinda Williams’ raw and sadly beautiful World Without Tears album, certainly means well.
If you just read the lyrics, it’s a poignant (though overly rhyme-y) letter to a damaged person who’s been turned cruel by decades of abuse. It ends on a hopeful note, as Williams looks past the rough exterior to the wounded innocent inside.
In a Rolling Stone reader’s poll of Bob Dylan’s worst songs, today’s SOTD placed fourth. Coming in third, inexplicably, was ‘Rainy Day Women #12 & 35,’ the great rollicking kick-off track of Blonde On Blonde. So obviously this is a subjective exercise.
I don’t know every Bob Dylan song, and the ones I don’t know come from what is considered his worst period, so it’s possible he has recorded songs I’d find less pointless than this one. But it would be a tough contest.
Though mega-talented and extremely consistent, my very favorite artists aren’t perfect.
This week I will feature five songs that, for lack of a better word, suck. But they are notable in that they were recorded by five artists I rank among the best I’ve ever heard.
What I think you’ll find is that all of these songs are interesting failures.
How funny to see this video a couple of days after that clip of Elvis Costello in full elder statesman mode playing folk ballads alongside Mumford & Sons.
The pigeon-toed dancing and fuck-the-world sneer seem to belong to another artist than the man we’ve come to know in the 35 years since. Forget Springsteen and Dylan, perhaps Elvis Costello has had the most extraordinary career.
Here’s one of those cases — so often unearthed on Random Weekends — of an artist who wound up in my music collection under circumstances I have long since forgotten.
I don’t know who Mindy Smith is or why I own her debut album, One Moment More. I don’t know if I’ve heard any or all of it. I vaguely remember liking her cover of Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene,’ the final track on this record, but I can’t imagine I bought the record as a result.
Meet Me In Montauk 