For the final hypothetical mix CD of 2004, I dispensed with usual practice of agonising over the damn thing for months at a time. I just threw it together and listened to it. And would you believe, it works. There’s probably a lesson in there somewhere, but I sure as heck won’t learn it. In the same spirit, I’ll try to keep the comments to a minimum.
Tim Hardin, “If I Were a Carpenter”: Ed Kuepper does a great version of this, on “Today Wonder” (now reissued w/ extra tracks, so there really is no excuse). I was listening to Triple R one night many years ago when the DJ seemed to have flown the coop and put Ed’s version on an endless loop. Hey, that rhymes.
Bobby “Blue” Bland, “That Did It”.
Lou Courtney, “Hey Joyce”.
Slapp Happy, “Blue Flower”: better known to the hipster cogniscenti as a Mazzy Star song. (Heck, I hadn’t even realised it was a cover.) Me, I actually prefer Hope Sandoval to the somewhat belted vocals on this. In fact, “I prefer Hope Sandoval” could serve as my epitaph.
Opal, “Fell From The Sun”: somewhat obvious segue, this, with Opal being David Roback’s band previous to Mazzy Star (what is he doing now?, you hear me ask). This is a fabulous song. I have long cherished their SST album, “Happy Nightmare Baby”, and am always excited (and never, at least not yet, disappointed) to hear anything else by them.
Bloomfield, Kooper, Stills, “Season of the Witch”: eleven minutes of anathema perhaps, but I like to think of this as the electric-blues equivalent of what happens in jazz all the time: take a standard and push it out further than you ever thought it could go (John Coltrane’s “My Favourite Things” being only the most obvious example).
Soft Cell, “Tainted Love/Where Did Our Love Go?”: exhibit A in the case for the defence of the 12-inch single. The two songs fit together like they had been born that way. You couldn’t do this in three minutes, but you could do it in eight. And they did. I first heard this at the Oakleigh Motel, in suburban Melbourne, where I was staying with my parents during one of our infrequent trips to Melbourne when for whatever reason we weren’t able to stay with my mad cousins in East Bentleigh. And of course we wish Marc Almond the speediest and fullest of recoveries from his horrific motorcycle accident. (And, on the same morbid subject, we wish Edwin Collins all the very best, too, and hope he’s not falling but laughing some time soon.)
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, “Electricity”: in a nutshell, the sound every boy and girl was looking for in 2004.
Specials, “Ghost Town”: another one lovingly packed away for the desert island. It’s surprising, and heartening, how many guest programmers on “Rage” have chosen this.
23 Skidoo, “Coup”: and when the kids have tired of OMD, they are turning to the sound of Sheffield.
Mouse on Mars, “Lazergum”: nudging us into the 21st century.
Pizzicato Five, “Good”: Looks like I missed the boat again. When I think of all those CD-eps I could have bought ...
Baldwin Brothers, “Dream Girl”: I have spoken about this before. It still keeps me awake at night if I hear it after 4pm. Just like coffee.
Mendelsson, “storagemanagementadministration”: Googling this is futile. (Which means the artist or song name may well be wrong.) I seem to be liking much of what I hear from Germany these days.
Jens Lekman, “You Are the Light”: there are, I am sure, thousands of reasons for not liking this fellow. Well, I’m sorry, I can’t help it.
Kings of Convenience, “I’d Rather Dance With You”: the closest we will ever come to a new Smiths song. Which, as if it needs explaining, is intended as the highest compliment.
Low, “Last Night I Dreamed Somebody Loved Me”: and finally, an actual Smiths song, as rendered by the once and future kings of “slowcore” (whatever that is). Twice the emotion and (almost) none of the forward motion. But it works in its own way and on its own terms. It’s not exactly the most uplifting place to finish the year, though.
