For the next two weeks I’ll continue my annual tradition of going dark on the blog while I embark on a family vacation.
This year’s destination is California, so my ten song selections will reference the Golden State.
Enjoy, and see you back here in a couple of weeks!
Sugarland really disappeared after they killed all those people at that concert in Indiana.
Their star was already fading at that point… I recall some morbid jokes about the tragedy that the last thing the victims heard before dying was Sugarland. But for awhile there they were on a pretty good run.
I used to have a rule that any time an American singer recorded a song in French, the result was pretentious shit. I’m not even sure what that rule was based on, but I believed it adamantly.
While some would say Billy Joel’s ‘C’Etait Toi (You Were The One)’ should be Exhibit A for my no-French rule, I’ve actually always had a soft spot for that song. I think it stems from the (true?) story that he was booed while singing it in France by a crowd unimpressed with his accent. Fuck you, Frenchies.
Continuing a phenomenon I first chronicled in a post on Ben Folds Five’s ‘Smoke,’ my wife has taken to a song to which I hadn’t previously paid much attention.
This time around it’s the title track of Bruce Springsteen’s Wrecking Ball. She discovered it in random rotation on her car stereo and then adopted it for her running playlist, enjoying the way its momentum urges her to keep the pace up for just a little while longer.
I consider myself a lyrics person, but every once in awhile I completely miss the boat and either have no clue what a song is about or don’t take the time to fully appreciate its lyrical content.
Lucinda Williams’ ‘Bus to Baton Rouge,’ the closing track of her 2001 album Essence, eluded me until just this week.
Meet Me In Montauk 