I hate to be the one I say I told you so

As previously noted, our dear Ely is currently on tour, serenading the children by day and enticing their parents into ramshackle debauchery by night. Therefore I've taken it upon myself to throw a couple of Friday posts your way to keep things lively!

Today, I thought I'd throw one last winter jam on the pile before fully succumbing to blissful seasonality. The Ass Ponys existed in a strange niche somewhere between the Flaming Lips and the Chainsaw Kittens, but (to the best of my knowledge) never achieved any sort of cult status and are only remembered in time by myself and the music editor of the L Magazine. Of all their songs, "Last Night It Snowed" is probably the least weird and most likeable, and it's a fine way to say goodbye to the feeling of icy slush soaking through your shoes on your morning commute.

Ass Ponys - Last Night It Snowed

I can't help it if I'm happy

For those of us who live in a classic four-season environment, a certain set of sounds is essential when heralding the onset of warmth. This weekend, New York peeked out from underneath a blanket of snow and saw sunshine and forty degrees, and my heart leapt unapologetically into a new season (premature or not.)

My favorite springtime songs tend to be punchy, simple jangle pop numbers - The Lucksmiths, Beulah, Paul Westerberg's Grandpaboy alter ego. Added to this list a few years back was the simple loveliness of a band called Guillemots, whose song "Who Left The Lights Off, Baby?" is currently residing on a playlist I call "favorite songs of ever."

Today, Guillemots' lead singer, Fyfe Dangerfield releases his first solo album. Not only does he have the best name ever, but the album's first single is a seriously ramped-up version of the more understated Guillemots sound. It's really very simple, but it's really very catchy, and everything about it says "the weather is getting warmer and we might start staying out too late soon."

Fyfe Dangerfield - When You Walk Into The Room

My heart's in my mouth and I'm walking on water

Bill Nelson is one of those guys who's all over the place, and yet nobody seems to know him. There are big gaps in my knowledge of his output, but I know his career has run the gamut from art glam guitar heroics to ambient layers of sound to swirling synth-driven experimental pop, with a bunch of stops in between. Not surprisingly, the catalog is pretty spotty.

But there's nothing spotty about this track. This one comes from his New Wave/New Romantic/whatever early-'80s spell, but it shows the craftsmanship of someone who spends all his time making music. Which is seemingly the case. This is the kind of pop sound I envy. Beyond being crazy catchy, there's just something classy about it, which is no mean feat considering how much air the bass take up. Another one from the Imaginary John Hughes Soundtrack files.

Bill Nelson - Tender Is The Night

Well, I'm heading out on tour for the next 2 weeks. Which likely means an unpredictable amount of free time. Which is not so conducive for daily Songblaguing. So I'm gonna have to take another little break. But Flynn might well chime in the interim to keep you up to date on current goings-on in rock. Either way, I'll be back on Monday 3/8. Hopefully with some good stories about Southern highways and other souvenirs.

I'm gonna open up your gate

My sister keeps proselytizing me on Lee Hazlewood. I don't resist so much as enjoy at a remove. Just not my cup of '60s, although I do commend his mastery over Nancy Sinatra. Meanwhile, I've had warm feelings for Slowdive since high school, an age when folks are most susceptible to their hazy charms. And those hazy charms work wonders for one of Hazlewood's signature ditties. A shimmering ocean of a pop song.

Slowdive - Some Velvet Morning

Trois Gymnopédies, trois vues

Some historians talk about the short 20th century, meaning that the real break with the previous century occurred with the first shots of World War I. That may be true, but in another sense, the long 20th century began with Erik Satie's 3 Gymnopédies—the granddaddy of ambient, minimalism, maybe even jazz (stuff's kinda blue, after all). And to me at least, they suggest a subjective, interior space that cuts against the old paradigm for this kind of stuff.

These pieces don't feel connected to any particular time or place. So in the Modernist spirit, I'm thinking why not get all cubist and offer three very different ways of looking at one of them. Here's the faithful piano version, performed by an eminent Satie interpreter.

Aldo Ciccolini - Trois Gymnopédies: Lent et Douloureux

And here's the Yesterday's Future version, late-'70s style. Music for evening contemplation in space cities. Best thing Gary Numan ever did.

Gary Numan - Trois Gymnopédies: Lent et Douloureux

And in a nice inversion of mood, here's the candyland J-pop version. Satie goes Animé.

Pine*am - Gymnopédie 0.1

Your tongue can get sharp

Sometimes it seems like there are two kinds of people in the world: people who really, really love Clem Snide, and people who've never heard Clem Snide. There's something about the intersection of Eef Barzelay's wordplay and the band's amiable bit-of-country-pluck sound that seems pretty difficult not to be into. In what I've decided will be my fashion, I wanted to make this post about the new album out today, The Meat of Life, which I have heard and quite definitely approve of. However, the internet didn't want to surrender a track to me, so here's a Clem Snide classic from the ol' spinART days.

Most will say that The Ghost of Fashion is Barzelay at his best. It's a rare brand of songwriter who can take all of the worst parts of human relationships and tongue-twist them into something that sounds quite pleasant, and that he can do it so consistently never ceases to amaze me.

There's a full stream of The Meat of Life on the 429 Records site so you can hear it for yourself, and then you can think about how I was right, and then you can thank me.

Clem Snide - Don't Be Afraid of Your Anger

A haunted groove

Some songs seem to hold a weird weight, capturing the electric anticipation of something big about to happen. The build-up to this tune sounds like it bubbled up from Earth's molten core. Then it kicks into a groove that cruises through weird dusty gray landscapes that call up unsettling dreams I had as a kid. Hearing this now somehow retroactively puts it in the soundtrack of my memory of those dreams. Which gives me all kinds of thoughts about the mischief of time.

Blackrock - Yeah Yeah

Cosmic warriors of Detroit

While we're rocking the late-'60s mental vectors, let's move it over to our side of the Atlantic. This one's got Ted Nugent in the co-pilot's chair. That's him on guitar, apparently blissfully unaware of the song's lyrical implications. Unlike the Floyd, these Dukes are held down by their earthbound ways, musically and probably politically too. It's more like a journey to the drive-in or the shooting range, or whatever Ted was into to help him realize his loincloth fantasies. Still, this track is a fine garage psych rocker, and I recall it being put to good use in a dream sequence on Six Feet Under, which is about as un-Nuge as it gets, short of the Oxygen network.

The Amboy Dukes - Journey to the Center of the Mind

Obscured by clouds

Well, it blizzarded again. And except for when the wind picked up (or a kid tried to throw a snowball but fell down and started crying), there was an excellent calmness to the snow blanket. It all made me want to stay home and throw the layers on. So, here's a song for mental bathrobes and innerspace voyaging.

I always thought that this one was mistitled. They keep talking about the sun, but it's all dark spaces with only flickers of light to guide the way. I guess the floor tom mallets help with the compassing too.

Pink Floyd - Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun

Let's talk about New Orleans without using the phrase 'who dat!'

Well, hooray for the Big Easy! Super Bowl. Mardi Gras. Treme. That last one is David Simon's new HBO show that you should all get excited about. It's supposed to be excellent, and my sister is a co-producer on it, so my there's my bias. May as well celebrate all that with a classic Meters jam, still the city's funkiest export.

And as coincidence would have it, I'm playing some hot New Orleans jazz this Friday night with the Ramblers at Sunny's. If you're anywhere near Red Hook, come on out!

The Meters - Look-ka Py Py

I don't want it to (but it does!)

The problem with doing things in life that are Very Very Good is that when you stop doing that exact thing, people will tell you the new thing you are doing is Not As Good. This has always kind of made me wonder whether doing Very Very Good things is worth the total complex it's bound to give you later.

This aside, Title Tracks is a band fronted by a dude who used to front a pretty good band that had a lot of press around the fact that he used to be the drummer in a very very good band. While I happened to like both of those bands, I would rather tell you that Title Tracks' first album It Was Easy is out today and while I haven't let it really sink in yet, I think it might turn out to be Very Very Good.

This is a band with a spot-on pop sensibility (no really, everyone says that but I mean it) that makes me want to reference both Ted Leo and Tommy Keene, which is certainly worth celebrating as we start hoping the weather gets warmer. Additionally, there's a cover of "Tougher Than The Rest", which is possibly one of the best songs of all time.

Title Tracks - Every Little Bit Hurts

Go, going, gone

I'm not even gonna qualify my claim that the Go-Betweens were one of the very best bands of the 1980s, "alternative" or otherwise. The facts: the band boasted 2 ace songwriters in Robert Forster and Grant McLennan; the songs are tight, smart and catchy, nearly always in equal measure; they were critically adored but criminally absent in the charts, with recognition coming way too late. You've heard it before.

I'm gonna skip over their '80s classics (anyone reading this should at least own Before Hollywood) and go right to their comeback in the '00s, which was cut short due to McLennan's sudden death in 2006. Super bummer. They still had it—rhyming about looking good in Hollywood, dreaming of Birnham Wood. Take that, Biggie.

The Go-Betweens - Going Blind

I don't wanna grow up

It's important to have regular servings of giddy in your musical diet. Keeps your face from sagging. I saw these guys play last weekend and was amazed at the how long they sustained the giant smiles on their faces. I was partly convinced that they'll never look older than 15, which will probably serve them well in their murky adulthood. Good thing, because scowling babyfaces are sad and a little scary.

The Spinto Band - Vivian, Don't

Take a walk down the avenue

Songblague is always happy to add to its stable of street struttin' songs. The unfortunately named Crusaders have a nice fat discography that I need to dive deeper into. But I'm mostly loving this album start to finish. Part of me thinks that Larry Carlton's entire career is simply gravy after the "Kid Charlemagne" guitar solo (except of course for this other highpoint), but his tone is always such a joy. I almost hesitate to put this in the Claire Huxtable file. What do you think, lawyers and law school people? Could you keep your head in the books while this excellent toe-tapper is in the air?

The Crusaders - Chain Reaction

Nun takes flight again

I'm gonna extend Flynn's musical stopover in New Zealand one more day. Though they don't usually get mentioned in the same breath as the classic Flying Nun roster, Straitjacket Fits were indeed quite awesome. I love everything about this song. The tense string trills building up to swirling psych-pop verses and then launching into a brilliant soaring chorus. Then around again. Nice ebb and flow. When they sing 'she rides the wind,' I think I can see what that looks like.

Straitjacket Fits - She Speeds

A dream that life forgot

I've kept one eye on New Zealand's indie rock scene for a few years now, and I've long been privy to the twee delicacies that one so easily finds in bands like the Ruby Suns and the Brunettes. Still, it's quite easy to be out of touch with what's considered popular in other countries; even as I warm to the trashy inevitabilities of Ke$ha, I couldn't tell you whether she's had an impact on the international charts.

So when my best friend - who happens to reside in New Zealand - sent me a link to the following song, I got instantly nostalgic for a time when music sounded like this. I thought first about the Outfield, and then I thought about Too Much Joy, and it made my heart feel pretty good that this seemed to reside chronologically and thematically between the two. Then I realized she was sending it to me because it's one of the top 2009 singles in her country. While I've been obsessing over the latest pop jam from Kelly Clarkson and discovering a deep-seated affinity for Kid Cudi, she's been rocking out to this brazen pop-rock anthem.

Not too shabby, other side of the world.

Midnight Youth - All On Our Own

Das auto

Have you noticed all the indie rock in car ads these days? Just off the top of my head: Phoenix, Ratatat, Band of Horses, Prefuse 73. To say nothing of Volkswagen's Nick Drake coup from a ways back. Now this. I think it's Cadillac that's using Peter Schilling's "Major Tom" in their spots. Except they've subbed in generic electronic 'anticipation' music and an equally generic diva. Why? The original's got a great krautrock groove and a once-in-a-lifetime hook. And it sounds awesome in the original German (I think it was the English version that netted Schilling his one hit wonder fame).

Though it hardly rates as an uninvited sequel to "Space Oddity," I think it holds up on its own terms, Plus, bonus! The album mostly sucks, but the little reprise is a glorious piece of distinctly '80s-style space rock. Funny how people's idea of that sort of thing changed so much in just a few years. I guess you can't drift like the '70s when you're rocking these bad boys.

Also, Flynn's back tomorrow. I have no idea what she's got in store, but I doubt it'll be in German.

Peter Schilling - Major Tom (Vollig Losgelost)
Peter Schilling - Major Tom (reprise)