Here’s a track from an album making its first appearance on Random Weekends: Marc Cohn’s 1991 self-titled debut.
This is the only Cohn album I own, so it’s no surprise that it took this long for it to win the Meet Me in Montauk lottery. We’re talking 11 songs out of more than 13,000.
Cohn has released nine albums since this one, though two are live albums, one is a greatest hits, one is a collection of unreleased tracks, one is an album of covers of songs from 1970, and one features re-recordings of his own songs with the gospel group Blind Boys of Alabama.
My #7 album of 1991 is the debut of Cleveland-born singer-songwriter Marc Cohn.
This is a bit of a left-field pick for me because I haven’t given Cohn’s album much thought since it came out. But scanning my music library’s 1991 titles for this week’s posts, I was struck by the greatness of this album. It’s a gorgeous collection of poetic piano balladry.
I have this image of Paul O’Shea, relaxing in port, Googling himself and finding a week’s worth of posts on my blog about his Royal Caribbean cruise ship piano bar routine.
Mine wouldn’t be the only one, I’m sure. I found several mentions of O’Shea on YouTube and cruise message boards, and he has a Facebook page filled with pictures from his ocean adventures.
I base a lot of my posts on this blog around artists… theme weeks aimed at exploring the evolution of a career, stuff like that. I have mostly pulled from the bands and solo artists I like best, the ones whose new albums I rush out to buy on release day.
But sometimes it’s all about the song. Some songs I love even though I couldn’t care less what the performer did before or since. And I think because they came to me apart from a preexisting relationship they often end up all the more special. That is, the best songs by my favorite artists have to compete with all the other great songs by those artists, but a standalone track gets the pedestal all to itself.