No matter how secure you are in your musical taste, there’s no getting around the fact that it’s uncool to like certain things.
I believe the surest test of that coolness factor is how comfortable you’d be if you pulled up to a stoplight with your windows open and Song X blaring from your speakers then turned to your left and saw another driver (let’s say an attractive member of the opposite sex) looking back at you and getting an earful of your selected tune.
In 1988, five musical legends (and good friends) joined forces to create what remains the finest “supergroup” ever formed.
That band was the Traveling Wilburys, comprised of Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison and George Harrison. Their self-titled debut album, the only one they recorded with the full lineup, outshines much of the solo work released by the individual members.
The album is a mix of countrified folk rock that manages to play to the strengths of each Wilbury without lapsing into a series of solo performances. They sound throughout the record like a true band, supporting and enhancing each other’s turn at center stage.
In the battle of the head vs. the gut, the gut always wins.
Something about Sting rubs me the wrong way. It’s not even something I can articulate, though Sting rubs a lot of people the wrong way and I could probably compile a list of reasons others have given. But those reasons wouldn’t necessarily ring true for me.
For example, here’s a guy who wrote a list of ‘101 Reasons to Hate Sting‘ and I disagree with most of them. For example, he claims Sting murdered Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Little Wing,’ while I think Sting’s version of that song is quite lovely.
If Annette Bening upsets Natalie Portman on Sunday night and finally lands the Best Actress Oscar that has long eluded her, she’ll have Joni Mitchell to thank.
Bening is stellar throughout The Kids Are All Right, playing a lesbian mother of two whose life is turned upside down after her kids track down their sperm donor, but she crosses over to transcendent during a dinner-table scene a little more than halfway through the film.
She’s making a good effort to befriend the donor (played with rakish charm by Mark Ruffalo) and is struck by the Joni Mitchell records in his vinyl collection. Tipsy on a little too much wine (as she is during much of the film), she launches into a full-throated rendition of ‘All I Want’ from Mitchell’s Blue.
If somebody were to ask me to name the great songs on Paul Simon’s Graceland, I’d quickly run off a string of titles: ‘Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes,’ ‘Under African Skies,’ ‘Crazy Love Vol. 2,’ ‘Graceland.’
Then I’d take a breath and keep going with ‘The Boy in the Bubble,’ ‘You Can Call Me Al,’ ‘That Was Your Mother,’ ‘Homeless,’ ‘I Know What I Know,’ ‘All Around the World.’
The last song I’d mention, and one I might even forget it if put on the spot, is ‘Gumboots.’ And ‘Gumboots’ is a freaking amazing song.
