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.
My admiration for Fiona Apple is well documented on this blog. By now, I believe I’ve posted more than half of her songs, including the entirety of her second album (When the Pawn…).
When I want to offer up something provocative and challenging, she’s my go-to gal.
Take today’s left-field mind-bender. ‘Left Alone’ starts off with a peppy little drum solo before launching into an unsettling, discordant piano part that underscores the rest of the song.
I’m still in the process of discovering just how great the Rolling Stones were. Perhaps I should say “are” as the band is still touring together 42 years after today’s song was released, but I doubt they’ve had anything as good as Sticky Fingers or ‘Moonlight Mile’ in them for a long time now.
They still sound great, though. Keith Richards is as ingenious a guitar player as ever and Mick Jagger still sings the hell out of every song. But it was their songwriting that really set them apart.
