SoCal Soundtrack: Spring Break in Southern California—Rancho Mirage and Altadena

By Jack Stephen

9:00 AM, Saturday, in the car leaving the Palm Springs International Airport.

On the radio: Lee Dorsey, “Ya - Ya” (1961).

I didn’t really see this track coming. My mother-in-law had it on her R&B mix CD as we drove to her place after landing in Palm Springs. This was the track I needed—something I had never heard. I guess Lee was one of those New Orleans guys, who got a little something going. I’m pretty sure the KKK and racism in general was still pretty intense back in those days, all the more respect for these great R&B tracks that came out of this era. Here’s a cool song by a dude who probably went through a lot. I also learned that he opened for the Clash on their U.S. tour in 1980. Let’s get this spring break going already.   

11:15 AM, Sunday, at the pool.

On the radio: Sophia Loren, “Zoo Be Zoo Be Zoo” (1960).

A vignette: Sixty degrees outside, the saltwater pool is about seventy-five degrees. The San Bernardino Mountains loom in the distance with a slight dusting of snow from the night before. I hear a trash truck pull up, upsetting the stillness in the warming air. I lay back on a chaise lounge chair. A leaf blower mutes an ad for the upcoming humanitarian award dinner at the community center. The palm trees sway in the light breeze, adding punctuation to the clear blue sky. “Zoo Be Zoo Be Zoo” seems about right for this moment. I remember I forgot my beach towel.  

Around 2 or 3 PM, Monday, relaxing by the koi pond.

What am I reading: Accordion Crimes by Annie Proulx (1996).

This book is fantastic. She traces the journey of an accordion through a hundred years. Characters from all over the map are ironically linked by the desire to become musicians. This fact is paired with the mysteries of happenstance and serendipity. I am always struck throughout my reading to this pull or draw to make music. This often starts with the “next” character sort of just staring at the accordion. Even in all of the hardship, and lack of practical knowledge (outside the absence of folklore passed down type stories), these people mostly just sort of decided they should probably give it a go. They already had the accordion; how bad could it be?

In doing a little accordion research, I took a little stroll down memory lane and pulled up the following track.

What I am listening to: They Might Be Giants, “Don’t Let’s Start” (1986).

I had no idea that They Might Be Giants’ lead man John Linnell was a renowned accordion player. I thought the bad were okay and probably just one of those 1980s bands that brought a little something unique to the alternative music genre—kind of like Wall of Voodoo or Big Country. They had songs that were good lyrically but sounded a little helpless. (“Anna Ng” and “Birdhouse in Your Soul,” for example.) Nevertheless, I love “Don’t Let’s Start”—it is such an awesome song. It is one of those tracks David Byrne probably had a wet dream about a time or two. The video is excellent as well, great concept. I think it was shot in reverse or something; whatever, it looks sweet. “Nobody ever gets what they want and that is beautiful,” thinking about life, outstanding work by They Might Be Giants. 

2:30 PM, Tuesday, walking down El Paseo.

The Rodeo Drive of the Palm Springs area is El Paseo. Located in Palm Desert, it is an assortment of high-end shops and restaurants with people and attitudes to match. I guess you should have some sort of air of importance if you are buying a $700 dress for a casual Friday BBQ. I don’t know. I guess it is good people are rich, but do they understand perspective? Talk about fantasy land! Who is the richest around here? Who knows? Definitely not me. I’m wearing plastic Birkenstocks—$50. Whatever, we went to eat at the Tommy Bahama Restaurant and got a mediocre $27 burger, we’re here aren’t we?

What is playing on the speakers lining the street: The Temptations, “Just My Imagination (Running Away with Me)” (1971).

This felt like the perfect track for walking on this street at this time. Regardless of where you are, this is just a great track. Sort of like “The girl from Ipanema,” this song resides in a fun place in our mind, where we wonder: what if? Having this orchestra arrangement with members of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra really adds to the mystique. This is the perfect track for walking along really any street.  

11:00 AM, Wednesday, heading to Los Angeles on the 210.

What’s on the radio: Phillip Bailey and Phil Collins, “Easy Lover” (1984).

Now here’s a great song. Phillip Bailey and Phil Collins just knocking it out of the park. I was already a fan of their works separately—Earth, Wind, and Fire and Genesis. Now they’re doing a track together.  They sing off each other providing an example of how a rock / R& B duet should be done. The keyboards/guitar solos complement each other as well. It is just a well-made song. Also, interestingly, I’m pretty sure they both had experienced this “Easy Lover” at times in their careers, adding to the poignant tone of the lyrics. (Note: Phillip Bailey was born and raised in Denver. He attended Denver East High School and cut his teeth playing in a band: Friends and Love.)

6:30 PM, Wednesday, chilling in Altadena, sipping on a Martini.

What we are listening to: Morgan Wallen, “Last Night” (2023).

My buddy and his wife are big country fans, so every time we visit, we get exposed to another artist we’ve been missing out on. This was a pretty fun song, reminiscent of a lot of country hard-drinking songs. I guess it’s funny because we’ve all been there, “last night we let the liquor talk,” especially now that we’re older and those nights are in the rearview mirror. It’s fun to look back though, wow, we’ve come a long way! Our friends are pretty into this artist, and I didn’t know Morgan Wallen was headlining the last night of the Stagecoach Festival they’re going to. Two weeks after the world renown Coachella Music Festival, it’s the Stagecoach Festival for three days of country music. Thanks for the update Los Angeles, we never even knew of Morgan Wallen or the Stagecoach Festival for that matter. 

1:45 PM, Thursday, back at the pool. 

What’s on the speaker: Sergio Mendes and Brazil 66, “Mas Que Nada” (1962).

This was really the perfect song to wrap up this spring break. I have no idea what they are singing about. Is that Spanish or Portuguese? It sure sounds cool. This is a really fun genre of music, at some club in Brazil in the 1960s. No doubt, it was a great time! Right now, I am at the pool in Rancho Mirage, it’s a beautiful day, everyone has an easy smile on their faces, my wife, father- and mother-in-laws’ and this track is humming along. I guess everything is right in the world, or at least it seems so right now. We fly back to Colorado tomorrow, and as I wander through the airports, I know what song will be in my head: this one.  

Beyoncé, “Texas Hold ‘Em”

By Gullypunk

While I have great respect for Beyoncé’s work, I could not pick her face out of a line up or name one of her songs before her latest hit, “Texas Hold ‘Em.” I also don’t follow pop culture, and I generally side with those who dismiss corporate pop music offhand. But dammit, “Texas Hold ‘Em” is one hell of an ear worm. 

I’m told this song has now hit the top of the country charts. If so, it makes me happy that Beyoncé’s work might be a small challenge to the dominantly white conservative formulaic horseshit pumped out of Nashville on a weekly basis.  

Old country music often grappled with real issues: socioeconomics, working-class woes, and even themes of women’s liberation in songs like Loretta Lynn’s 1975 classic “The Pill.” 

While Beyoncé’s new song is still pop music, and it is not remotely radical, the lyrics for “Texas Hold ‘Em” are closer to the theme of old country songs than the bubble gum vomit that makes up most pop music today. The song laments severe weather and heat waves— it notes escape in dive bars, which I read as an attempt to find joy, among the hardships of climate change.

“Texas Hold ‘Em” is not a critique of the broken systems that are driving humanity to our demise, but at least it recognizes that Rome is burning—against a subdued fiddle track that starts halfway through the song.  

I’m happy to see “Texas Hold ‘Em” is being played far and wide. And, fuck me, it’s going to be stuck in my head for a while.  

Airport Soundtrack

By Jack Stephen

February 17, 2024 

We entered Denver International Airport (DIA) at 7:00 AM; the airport felt like a cluster fuck. There were people everywhere, long lines and everyone going every which way. The design of DIA is unbelievable. It makes me wonder what the designer proposed, “let’s just have some sort of mob scene everywhere and make it all nice and confusing.” We started to follow the signs for the Pre-Check line, only to be routed all kinds of directions, before ending up at an escalator going up. This is around the time I heard the DIA DJ, perplexed by the song selections.  

What was playing on the speaker: “Back in Black” by AC/DC. 

AC/DC was one of those bands that I really enjoyed in middle school, but I can’t remember why? Their catalog consists of an assortment of mediocre rock songs: “Shoot to Thrill,” “Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap),” “Thunderstruck,” and “Highway to Hell”— just to name a few.  Nevertheless, Black in Black is an enormous album. “You Shook Me All Night Long” is one of the most popular rock songs ever. I remember some of the choice lyrics: “knocking me out with those American thighs” and “she told me to come but I was already there.” Where does an eighth grader run into such a vixen? (Note: This album was a tribute of sorts to their former lead singer Bon Scott who died of alcohol poisoning.) While it’s difficult to downplay their importance, considering the commercial success, I always thought they were just ridiculously overrated. Also, Angus Young, was the prep school uniform really necessary?  

What they should have played: “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” by the Eurythmics, “Stay” by David Bowie, or “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra.

We finally made it to the Pre-Check line. It had just reopened with the new facial recognition system. After going through a maze, feeling like I was in line at an amusement park, the weed gummy I ate on the shuttle kicked in. It was the only thing making this airport experience tolerable. Truth be told, the airport was sort of manageable and efficient, considering the massive volume of people. 

What was on the speaker: Nothing.

What they should have been playing: “Face the face” by Pete Townshend.

As stoned as I was, that track would’ve cracked me up—“I’m just researching child porn,” famous Townshend quote.

We headed to the big train downstairs to catch a ride to the terminals. Again, I questioned the overall design of DIA. How many kinds of people movers does one need to get on to get to a plane? We waited the “two minutes” before the next train arrived and packed in with all the other travelers.

What was on the speaker: Nothing.

What should have been on the speaker: “Soul to Squeeze” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.  

I think this track would have really resonated with this stinky airplane flying crowd, especially lyrically. Did anyone take a shower this morning? I sure didn’t. 

We entered Terminal C and checked the board for our plane status. The flight was delayed 10 minutes. I always thought checking the board was a cool experience. Look at all the destinations!  Fuck, there’s a plane going to Paris, one going to Liberia, and another headed to Costa Rica. There’s some people going to Des Moines, Iowa. Wow, nice work human race, this is cool; life gives us so many choices! Where do you want to go today?

What was playing on the speaker: “Hold Your Head Up” by Argent.

What should be playing on the speaker: This and only this track. There is nothing quite like walking through an airport with this song playing. The Hammond B-3 solo is pretty legit too. 

We make it to a bathroom. Using the bathroom at an airport is just one step above pissing in a bucket in a corner somewhere. I typically remember to wash my hands like a doctor going into surgery before leaving. We then went to stand in another line at the Caribou Coffee stand.  

What was playing on the speaker: “(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty” by KC and the Sunshine Band.  

Not sure if this was a good pick or not. I guess KC and the Sunshine Band were a pretty fun, funky group; they were kind of reminiscent of the Average White Band, but with more hits. I do like several of their songs: “I’m Your Boogie Man,” “Keep it Comin’ Love” and “That’s the Way (I Like It).” That funky bass and those big horns are pretty fantastic, but they are not really the band I need at 9:00 AM while I’m waiting in yet another line for an overpriced coffee and a blueberry scone.

What should have been playing: “Sunset Grill” by Don Henley, “Too Much Time on My Hands” by Styx, or “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters.

We grabbed our order and wandered to our gate; the plane was still another 10 minutes late. I got my wife set up in a seat with our carryon luggage, and I wandered back to the newsstand to grab a couple of newspapers.

What was on the speaker: “Listen to the Music” by the Doobie Brothers. 

I’d say this is a fairly good choice. The Doobie Brothers are one of those bands who have some cool songs but probably still earn a B- as far as 1970s rock bands go. The real question is what Doobie Brothers is it? Pre or Post Michael McDonald? “Listen to the Music” is one of the songs with the former. Tom Johnson is on vocals. Overall, the song is a pretty solid jam. I was always more partial to the velvet man himself, Michael McDonald, especially “Minute by Minute,” “What a Fool Believes,” and “Real Love.” All of these are great tracks. McDonald’s timbre is just top notch. Who doesn’t like a little “Yacht Rock?” Anyway, I would have to say “Black Water” is definitely the top Doobie Bro’s track. Great structure, writing, and just a slice of fun— kinda of like a key bump. Even though I’m sure any song that references “Dixieland” probably has some racist undertones, I don’t really think about it—it’s just too much fun to sing along too. 

What should have been on the speaker: “Black Water” by the Doobie Brothers.

Back to the gate, I sat there and read the goddamn newspaper, just like a gentleman should. Read a fucking newspaper already everyone. What the fuck? Local news is dying, and we need to back it up, buy a newspaper and fucking read it and think while you wait for your fucking airplane that is 10 minutes late. (Rant Over.)

I got up and walked around a bit, as needed to stretch my legs before I got on the plane. I hit the restroom once more. As I got back to the restaurant, restroom, and newsstand area, I saw these Bose bookshelf speakers spread out about ten feet apart mounted to the wall about 15 feet up—it’s like they hired my old college roommate to put those speakers up there, but enough of my complaints already.

What was on the speaker: “The End of the Innocence” by Don Henley.  

This track was on the Building the Perfect Beast album, which featured some awesome 1980s jams, such as the aforementioned “Sunset Grill,” “The Boys of Summer,” and “All She Wants to Do Is Dance.” This is somewhat of a crazy ass album. I guess the synthesizers are just going out of control at points—I am unsure? Henley was blessed with the opportunity to do his own thing after his Eagles success; and he really nailed it (see “Dirty Laundry”). This is the opposite trajectory from Dennis Wilson (of the Beach Boys) and his flop Pacific Ocean Blue. I’m not sure I am a fan of “The End of the Innocence,” but I just used an airport bathroom for the second time today, so whatever.

What should have been on the speaker: “Jet Airliner” by The Steve Miller Band, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul, and Mary (written by John Denver), “Teardrop” by Massive Attack, or maybe even a little “Strangers” by the Kinks.

Where are you going, I don’t mind,

I’ve killed my world and I’ve killed my time,

So where do I go? What will I see?

As I walked down the gangplank and boarded the plane, these were some things I was recently thinking about at DIA.    

Wayfarer, American Gothic (2023)

 

By Jack Rafferty

“Your ideas are terrifying and your hearts are faint. Your acts of pity and cruelty are absurd, committed with no calm, as if they were irresistible. Finally, you fear blood more and more. Blood and time.”

—Paul Valéry

I’ve followed Wayfarer since their debut album, and I have always appreciated the niche they have carved out for themselves. While I think that, at times, their aesthetic and thematic elements have wandered into gimmick territory, for the most part this has not been the case. I am happy to report that American Gothic is their most fleshed-out, realized version of what they have cultivated since inception. 

The history of violence that they draw from seems completely obvious in retrospect as a prime topic for the genre, but Wayfarer have been the ones to focus upon it singularly. To commit so heavily to such a thematic rigidity was risky, but Wayfarer stuck to their guns, and it has paid off. 

I was especially happy to see that American Gothic expands Wayfarer’s sound in refreshing ways, maintaining that core of black metal, while deepening the atmosphere and sounds they were willing to experiment with. They have also reined in a lot of their format and have achieved a greater sense of focus and purpose. They are at their most melancholy, rasping, and ferocious here. 

It finally feels like they are capturing the essence of a complex and deeply bloody fragment in time, that like an open wound, never closed and has continued seeping into the lives that have descended from it. How does one stand upon the very earth that was made an unceremonious mass grave, how do you reckon with the presence of those bones? Wayfarer, in their own way, have been journeying to interpret the dreaming plain of blood, withering to this day in slow death, a legacy of slaughter that never ended, a hydra that with every new head it grows and grows a new face as well. 

While they certainly do not achieve what someone like Cormac McCarthy does in recollection of this hysteric, ravenous delirium, Wayfarer have finally achieved a confident voice with American Gothic. Their sense of storytelling, pacing, balancing elements of their sound, and of cohesion in their sepulchral vision, have never been stronger than they are on this album. 

Top Romantic Songs for Valentine’s Day

By Jack Stephen

I was asked to join in the musical circle jerk on this blog. I have to say I was flattered, but somewhat wary—I mean it is a circle jerk after all. However, Null and I have talked about the scene in the movie Repo Man where the Circle Jerks performed as a lounge act, so I guess ya’ll are on the level. Here you go fuckers. For Valentine’s Day, my top romantic tracks are:

1. “Sleep Late My Lady Friend” by Harry Nilsson. 

This one was pretty much a no brainer. Harry Nilsson brings an impassioned soulful vibe to this track. Working with the great producer Rick Jarrard, on the album Pandemonium Shadow Show, Nilsson was really able to find some structure and settle into his personal style, performing in a zone known as mind blowing. I don’t know how many times I’ve played this song for my wife, but each time it seems like we always look at each other and sing the line: “We did the town, we tore it upside down.” If there’s a song that solidifies the statement made by both John Lennon and Paul McCartney in the famous press interview of 1968, “we’re listening to Harry Nilsson,” this song is it.  

2. “Nothing Even Matters” by Lauryn Hill. 

When Lauryn Hill arrived on the scene, so to speak, people were just gushing over the Fugees and the “Killing Me Softly” cover. It ended up being a huge hit. While I was happy to hear the song back in the mix, I would say overall it was rather “meh.” A couple of years later, Hill came out with the great The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, which is just a fantastic album. Interestingly, “Nothing Even Matters” was a duet with D’Angelo, who began his ride with a cover of the Smoky Robinson track “Crusin.’” I really love their back and forth on this song; the “snapping” adds texture with a subtle Hammond B-3 organ holding everything together. And those lyrics, how “nothing even matters,” with a myriad of examples, and finally “nothing but you” is just beautiful. 

3. “Little Harbor” by Jamie Saft. 

A vignette: I look out a window from a cabana on a hill. There’s a light rain falling. My wife naps lightly under some mosquito netting. We just made love. The air is steamy. I smell the ocean. A macaw cries in the distance. I see a little harbor, a small fishing boat pulls in. I wonder what I did to deserve this lovely moment. The sun peeks behind the clouds. I stare out the window. (Note: this song is on the Loneliness Road album featuring Iggy Pop on vocals on another track or two.)

4. “Foolish Heart” by Steve Perry. 

Steve Perry’s vocal mastery is really exemplified in this song. The songs he wrote/performed with Journey, while great, I thought were always were a little watered down by Neil Schon’s swollen ego. Regardless, Journey had some fantastic tracks. “Foolish Heart” feels like a personal song for Perry, somewhat of a departure from Journey’s big album rock songs. While I could not be more over “Don’t Stop Believin’” (thanks Sopranos, season finale), “Foolish Heart” always feels fresh. The lyrics also really spoke to me. I always felt like I had a bit of a foolish heart, and maybe we all do at times. (I was going to place Ambrosia’s “The Biggest Part of Me” in the number four spot, which is a song Perry covered.)

5. “Sweetness” by Yes. 

While typically thought of as the Prog rock masters, Yes is one of those bands that always seems to be operating in their own category. The layers, the harmonizing, the structure—the real question is: What the fuck are they doing anyway? The song “Leave It” is a great example. What does it matter? They’re a great band with some awesome songs, which includes “Heart of the Sunrise,” “Yours Is No Disgrace,” and “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” “Sweetness” is one of those romantic songs I appreciate because it is so smart lyrically. Jon Anderson sings about all these things his partner does for him; little things he sees as so important in his life. This leads to the revelation in the song’s climax “and you’re here.” Wow, what an awesome thing to realize. To my wonderful wife—thanks for being here, love you.

As the Circle Jerk’s say, “we do whatever we can, you gotta duck when the shit hits the fan.”   Happy Valentin’s Day everyone. 

Oxbow, Love’s Holiday (2023)

 

By Jack Rafferty

Oxbow has spent nearly the last four decades being one of the most important and vital forces in experimental music. They are perpetually changing, yet always maintaining a core sound and sense of danger, vulnerability, violence, and love. After 2017’s fantastic Thin Black Duke, I was curious to see what Oxbow would do next. It’s kind of hard to review Oxbow, because there really is nothing out there like them. They have such a unique sound, attitude, and atmosphere, blending jazz, blues, punk, avant-garde, noise, soul, R&B, rock, and so much more. 

Love’s Holiday definitely seems to have a noticeably less sharp edge to it, containing more contemplative, sad melodies and darker introspection. I loved seeing Lingua Ignota featured on the track, “Lovely Murk.” I thought it fit really well. It made me wish an entire collaboration album was made surrounding this, as I think the dynamics really make sense. 

“1000 hours” and “All Gone” both contain some of my favorite vocal moments on the album, with Eugene really delving into tragedy and immense vulnerability. He takes a much more restrained approach on this album, but it is still able to achieve an intense emotional impact. 

This certainly isn’t what I was expecting, but I’m glad that Oxbow continue to change and evolve their sound based on where they are at in their lives. It is music that feels very lived, and for that reason, genuine and intimate.