Icy icy

I may be cheating a little with this one. These two songs are the same song, but delivered in such wildly different voices that the genetic link is very much in question. I keep meaning to like the Fiery Furnaces more than I actually do. In theory, I like that they wrap many of their best hooks in dense cobwebs, but in practice, I often reach for something else. Maybe I'm a little crotchety that way. Here's one where they just let simple be simple. A dreamy little helicopter ride over a mythical topography.

The Fiery Furnaces - Tropical Ice-Land

And here's the big colorful cartoon version. Sounds like end-credits music for a movie you should try to make.

The Fiery Furnaces - Tropical Ice-Land

Know nothings

Is it really just serendipity when a couple of bandmates put out solo albums containing songs with the same title? It wouldn't interest me too much if I hadn't been oddly obsessed with '80s Genesis for a while now. I'll try to explain later. Of course, Mike Rutherford's effort was summarily ignored, while the other guy got his goofy mug on many magazine covers. Actually, it's a little sad. Acting Very Strange isn't that bad an album. It's just that some guys are destined to be the bearded one with the bass (or double neck). But who knew his voice was so gruff!? This one's just honest-to-pop catchy. And the beat is hot, courtesy of Stewart Copeland, for any of you drumming trainspotters. Apparently, he was enlisted for the session while they were playing polo.

Mike Rutherford - I Don't Wanna Know

A confession — I love No Jacket Required. We used to listen to it in the car on special Saturdays when my mom would drive me and my sister an hour and half up South Jersey to the big mall that was noticeably less shabby than our local one. Phil Collins had accidentally taken over the charts, in the way that stars did back then—a breakthrough album pumping out hits like Hasidic babies. (Let's take a moment now to reflect on that simpler time, with seamless successions of albums soundtracking your life for months at a time, Thriller to No Jacket Required to Hysteria.)

I found a vinyl copy of this album at a flea market last summer and it all came flooding back, the radio fodder mixed in with the tracks that insinuated themselves into mid-'80s mythology. And then, this song, with a strange power that arena-sizes the pop knack that had humbly plugged along for years previous. Good on him. Seriously, if you've got no love for the triumph of Sweet Phil, I've got none back for you.

Phil Collins - I Don't Wanna Know

Two of these days

Last Friday's little experiment has inspired me to go full-on with musical homonyms — two songs with the same title that couldn't be more different. On the A-side, a tasty live nugget of chug-chugging, delay-fueled space groovery from the Floyd's pre-stadium days.

These guys were one of my first musical obsessions (pre-drugs, no less!) and it took a while for me to overcome an internal punk-snooty backlash that lasted most of my adult life. I think this one goes to show that there really were some good post-Barrett years. This is what you sound like before you ever hear of tax exile.

Pink Floyd - One Of These Days (live)

Again, chance matches up beardo '70s-ness with a treasure from my tender/prickly youth. I've often made the weird decision to put this on mix tapes for girls. It's a great song of course, just totally wrong for suitoring purposes.

I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this homonym business, but I've got an idea for tomorrow that I'm rather psyched about. Be sure to swing by.

Camper Van Beethoven - One Of These Days

Wrong again

I guess once you get a Mac attack, you've got to let it ride. Here's a jump-around jam from Lindsey's coke-addled heyday of high ambition. And why play the sweet break on guitar when you can do it on harmonica! As massive betrayals of self-editing go, I must say Tusk is surprisingly tight. Which reminds me to go make that mix of songs from crazy flawed double albums. Call it Disasterpieces? Suggestions welcome. I'm guessing it'll be pretty prog-heavy.

Fleetwood Mac - I Know I'm Not Wrong

Meanwhile, a double shot of Fleetwood Mac demands a palette cleanser. Playing the random song title associations game, here's some fun stuff from high school. As song pairings go, I guess this is mostly...wrong.

Archers Of Loaf - Wrong

Hearing the cuckoos cry

Some pairings are odd, and some are odd, but just make sense. Case in point - the Captain Howdy, a collaboration between Kramer (longstanding acid pop experimentalist and facilitator; no, not the Seinfeld dude) and Penn Jillette (yes, the guy with Teller). I believe both are under-appreciated. And I think this song finds their their strengths in perfect harmony — brain-massaging psych track backing a monologue charming told. There's some useful truth in it too. Even on Songblague, I long for Songblague.

The Captain Howdy - I Long For Kyoto

Hall or nothing

I saw Hall & Oates play last Thursday in Coney Island. The show was great, but I was especially happy to find myself loving it not as a nostalgia act, but the way I would any parade of great songs. Looking around, I saw a sea of un-ironic adoration. Which gave me a great sense of justice, because H&O have no business being lumped in with the radio fluff of yesteryear. They ruled the charts for a reason, because ridiculously catchy, well-crafted pop—with some well-placed quirks—should strike a chord with the masses. It's even more impressive listening to the stuff today and hearing the traces of its time but no sense of indebtedness to the era. Which is to say, the best of their stuff doesn't feel the slightest bit dated.

You've heard the hits. But what about Daryl Hall's strange, yet totally inspired, collaboration with Robert Fripp. Sure, he was into Aleister Crowley, but who'd have thought he'd end up pallin' around with proggers?! They recorded the Sacred Songs album just before H&O hit their stride, and the label shelved it for 3 years. Because, well, record companies don't know anything about music.

It's not the easiest record to find, but it's well worth the effort. This is one of the standout tracks. Snarky lyrics, muscled-out vox, and crazy weird Frippery at 1:40 that might make your head implode. Despite all that, it's still all about the pop magick that Hall is so adept at conjuring.

Daryl Hall & Robert Fripp - Something in 4-4 Time