Long live Mr. Jim Carroll

Jim Carroll - poet, author, musician - passed away on Friday from a heart attack. He was 60.

I saw Mr. Carroll perform once, back when I was in college. His set included a wonderful set of poems and even a few spoken word performances of his songs. He was a warm presence and seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to the auditorium.

Sad to hear he's no longer with us.

The New York Times has a nice obituary here.

I remember hunting high and low to find a copy of Carroll's 1991 release, Praying Mantis. It became one of the main missions of my freshman year of college in Boston. Every used record store in the city knew me as the kid looking for Praying Mantis. I finally found it, worn and beaten, months after my search began, and treasure it to this day. Here's one of my favorite pieces from the album, titled Fragment: Little N.Y. Ode:

I sleep on a tar roof
scream my songs
into lazy floods of stars. . .
and the sounds return
pure and easy. . .
This city is on my side.

Local paper round-up: Sorry, Chad Smith, not in this town ...

The West Hartford News used to be a punching bag of poor writing, but that was soooooo three or four months ago. Some staff changes have improved the News greatly, pretty much to the point that there's nothing to make fun of. Well, almost nothing.

The paper has a section called "Happenings," where selected concert listings are printed. Wondering if Ratt is coming to Connecticut? Afraid that looking such information up online will put you on a "can you believe this guy is interested in going to see Ratt?" list? Look no further than "Happenings." They are ... wait for it ... happening, man! Don't you worry your pretty little head over nothing, baby! "Happenings" is gonna take care of you. (No offense to Ratt. I actually really dug them when I was a kid.)

Anyway, back to the present.

While perusing "Happenings" the other day, I noticed that there was a listing for the Chickenfoot concert that is happening (get it? Happening!) next week at Mohegan Sun. The listing looked like this:

Chickenfoot featuring Joe Satriani, Sammy Hagar, Michael Anthony, and more

That made me wonder, "Who is more?" How many other guys can make up a band called Chickenfoot?

The answer? One. Chad Smith, drummer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers (hey, I hear they're from California or something). One name. And the News didn't print it.

So, essentially, the News must have decided that the extra five letters in Smith's last name were just too much. Sorry, Smith, we can't fit you in. Instead, you will be known as "more." No hard feelings.

*****

Meanwhile, over at West Hartford Life, it appears as if someone may be drinking the Kool-Aid that used to filter through the pipes at the News. How else can one describe the following headline and opening paragraph:

First Max Muscle Opens Here

When Max Muscle opened its doors at 968 Farmington Avenue in West Hartford on July 1, it became the state's first and only Max Muscle Sports Nutrition store. This new store concept provides customers an in-store experience centered on the Max Muscle Information Center, featuring flat-screen televisions.

What is this Information Center? Who cares! There are FLAT-SCREEN televisions!

Seriously, though, how can that headline pass through an editor unscathed? "Opens Here?" Really? Then we have the overabundance of "Max Muscle" and "store." There are less than 50 words in that opening paragraph. "Max Muscle" and "store" both appear 3 times. That's a tad extreme, no?

But the author did cover the Five Ws (plus an added sixth): who, what, where, when, why, and what the hell are you trying to tell me here?

This has nothing to do with me or West Hartford ...

Chris Knox is, among other things, a musician from New Zealand. A pretty prolific guy, I got into one of his bands, Tall Dwarfs, several years back.

Anyway, earlier this month Chris had a stroke. And since then his family and friends have been keeping an ongoing blog of his slow recovery. It's a pretty interesting read and something that truly makes me realize that blogs can be useful and not just nonsense about cats or complaining about the world.

Give it a read over at: http://chrisknox.blogtown.co.nz/. 

The South Quaker Lane sidewalk has a question for you ...

Though, since there's no punctuation, perhaps the little pixie that did this is trying to make more of a zen-like statement:

Where is my mind. My mind is where.  

A Green Day rant

Oh, Green Day, must you continue to churn out these goofy "political" albums? They're beginning to make people take you seriously. 

Remember when you used to be just as bad but sang about things like playing with yourself? Remember when you were famous because you threw mud at people? Those were the days.

This morning I read an article on Yahoo! Music concerning your frustration over Wal-Mart's album censorship policy. Essentially a rehashing of Wal-Mart's long-standing rule in which the box store giant refuses to shelve albums that carry a "Parental Advisory" sticker, the article made it sound like you just suddenly discovered that stores like Wal-Mart censor music. The truth is, however, that anyone with any interest in music already knows that this has been Wal-Mart's policy for years and that lots and lots of bands have refused to conform to the corporate monster's wishes, which means that their albums have not been stocked on shelves at the store. 

Now, you're right when you say that it's ridiculous that one can go into a Wal-Mart to buy a violent video game, an R rated movie, and a gun, but they can't buy an album that has a sticker saying that people swear in a song (and the whole "Parental Advisory" sticker policy is a massive joke, with record companies deciding what does and doesn't deserve a label), but, c'mon guys, you had to know about what you were getting into before you started this now-public feud. If anything, Billie Joe, you should be arguing with your record label. They're the ones who decided to slap the "PA" sticker on your CD to begin with. But maybe that would be biting the hand that feeds you a bit too much, eh? Oh, man, that would be punk rock!

But things weren't always bad between you and Wal-Mart, were they? Didn't Wal-Mart offer some sort of "exclusive" version of your International Superhits! album? Yep, here it is. It's funny how you must have been completely comfortable to get in bed with Wal-Mart just a year or so ago, isn't it, but now you're soooooo angry at them?

In the Yahoo! Music article, Mike Dirnt, you're quoted saying  "As the biggest record store in the America, they (Wal-Mart) should probably have an obligation to sell people the correct art."

I agree with you 100%. However, when you look at your track record, you guys seemed perfectly fine to offer censored versions of your music before you became a band that talks about "important" topics (though, honestly, American Idiot is a pretty flimsy political statement when you really give it a listen). I mean, your first radio hit, "Longview" was heavily censored for language in order to appear on the radio. Heck, even "American Idiot" was censored for radio play. So, if you, as a band, are okay with censoring your lyrics and "art" in order to peddle your songs over the airwaves, why are you making a big deal about this whole Wal-Mart thing?

Hmmm ... Maybe it's because you're trying to stir up more interest in showing how "political" you are now, how "angry" you are with the corporate giants, even though, and let's be honest here, you are beyond becoming a similar giant, charging about $50 for a ticket to your concerts. Maybe you should change your name to Greed Day (okay, that was a bit low).

Could this "feud" be just another facade in your evolving image? Have you been talking to Madonna?

Perhaps this whole nonsense is just another identity shift of an already over-costumed musical act. We all know how much you've changed. After all, we must remember that you are still the guys who named an album Dookie and who aped The Clash in your early years to the point of exhaustion.

Whatever the reason, Green Day, I just hope that, over time, people begin to listen to true "political" songs from our current era and realize that what you've become is nothing more than AOR dream, a simple political statement for those afraid to bother thinking beyond the obvious.

That's all. Now, go back to putting on your eyeliner and moping. Thanks for your time.

P.S. If you're looking for a concept album that actually does work when it comes to the fear of living in the scary George W. world that we all suffered through, check out The Thermals' The Body, the Blood, the Machine. Absolutely brilliant! 

Busy weekend

Sunday morning. 8:45 a.m. I'm tired, but the cat was insistent. He always is when we're trying to sleep in a bit.

I'm halfway through a busy weekend, and none of it has been Valentine-related (The Professor is VERY anti-Valentine's Day, and, I must admit, so am I). 

Yesterday, The Professor and I headed up to Massachusetts to take my parents out to lunch. Today marks their 40th anniversary and, though I wanted to throw them a party, it just wasn't in the budget right now (Maybe they'll get a 41st anniversary party next year. That'll confuse them.). So, lunch it was. We went to a teppanyaki restaurant. My father is quite fond of these places, especially the show that is the chef, watching the onion volcano, trying to catch vegetables in his mouth, that sort of thing. He's as entertaining to watch as the flames shooting from the hibachi.

After lunch, and after driving my folks back to their house and visiting for a bit (And by visiting, I mean talking for twenty minutes and then watching as everyone began to doze off.), The Prof and I shook the sleeps out and got back into the car. We pointed it toward Boston. Two more stops awaited our arrival.

First was seeing our friend's new apartment in Newton Corner. Second was our other friend's 30th birthday bash in Newton Highlands. Both were enjoyable, but exhausting. Watching buzzed Ph D. candidates (and those already through the system) sing karaoke to "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" and "9 to 5" takes a lot out of a man. Add in a rum-spiked fruit juice and hors d'oeuvres for dinner, and you get tired. Quickly. But it was fun. It was nice to see friends and faces that we haven't been near since moving.

40 years of marriage. 30 years of life. All in one day.

Driving home, we joked that we needed to find a 20 and 10-year milestone somewhere between Boston and West Hartford to complete the rundown. Maybe even help in the birth of a child. Then, we'd really be cooking. But it was late. The highway was quiet. We'd just have to settle with participating in a 40th and a 30th. That was enough for one day.

Sleep this morning would have been nice. But, again, there's this cat that we have . . .

It actually works out well. We need to be up. We have another friend to visit today. This time the visit is down here. We need to do a little cleaning. They'll be here in a couple of hours.

And so it goes . . . 

My iTunes is trying to say something . . .

Does it mean anything that, more than two or three times a week, my iTunes insists on playing The Ramones' "It's Not My Place (In The 9 to 5 World)"? There are 3800 songs for my computer to choose from. That comes to almost 10 days of music.

Yet, Joey Ramone talking about not fitting in with corporate life keeps popping up.

I sometimes wonder if Apple scans my brain at night while I sleep. If so, should I take Hayden's "The Hazards of Sitting Beneath Palm Trees" as a warning?

Rockabye Baby

While out west, I spent quite a bit of time getting to know a six-month-old baby named Zoe. She likes Elmo. And Horton (of "Hears a Who" fame). And bizarre Little Einstein DVDs of puppets on fishing line. But one thing that she has that I totally fell in love with was her Beatles CD from Rockabye Baby Records. 

What's a Rockabye Baby Record? Well, it's an album full of lullaby renditions of popular rock and roll songs. I know, it sounds odd, but it's pretty cool. And soothing. There's a huge roster of featured artists, from The Rolling Stones to Nirvana to The Pixies and The Ramones (Gabba Gabba Goo Goo!). What's great is listening to a really heavy song, like Nine Inch Nails "Hurt," as it is rendered into a harmless lullaby.

Here's a YouTube video of "Come As You Are" that I found:

You can find out more info and hear a bunch of audio clips at the Rockabye Baby website.

Ron Asheton, RIP

Ron Asheton, guitarist/bassist for The Stooges, was found dead in his home this morning. He was 60 years old. He apparently died of a heart attack, though nothing official has been released.

Here's Asheton in action (he's on the right for almost the entire clip) with Iggy Pop and the reunited Stooges from a performance in Montreal this past summer:

Happy New Year

Here's a rocking version of "Auld Lang Syne" by an Asian Jimi Hendrix cover band. To top it off, they even add "Foxy Lady" to the mix. Pretty great stuff.

Happy New Year everyone.

The mix CD

For the past four or five years, since the wondrous invention of iTunes, I have taken to giving my parents, in addition to their individual Christmas gifts, a mix CD. I usually plug some stuff on it I know they already like, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Springsteen, that sort of thing. But the real purpose of the disk is to expose them to music I'm enjoying. I guess I have some strange hope that they'll fall in love with, say, Okkervil River.

It's a thin line to walk. I mean, I want them to listen to the CD and to like it, obviously, but I also want them to discover something new, something they won't hear on their "light and easy" radio stations. So I try to find stuff that works for them, songs that aren't too abrasive, that aren't too loud. Bouncy works. Peppy works. A slight country twang works. The trouble is figuring out what the limits are. For example, I really love the recent Portishead and Bloc Party albums, but there's absolutely no way I can see my folks giving them a chance. It just isn't their music (I learned this lesson a few years ago. I thought the introduction of the Danger Mouse/Jay-Z Gray Album, which used elements of The Beatles White Album, would somehow make them look at rap differently. Needless to say, it didn't really work.).

I just have this vision that, one day, my Dad (his name is Jim) will be in his office, humming the tune of M.I.A's "Jimmy," which makes an appearance on this year's CD (I was going to add it to last year's, but, honestly, I thought he'd be too afraid of it). Or, that listening to some Carla Bruni will make my Mom more interested in rediscovering her French, a language she solely spoke until the age of three.

So far, I've had only minor success. My Mom really liked Kings of Convenience, which lead to her getting one of their albums. Outside of that, though, I think I've only gotten an "A" for effort.

But I keep plugging away. One day, another song will work, I can feel it. And then my parents will be the hippest 60-somethings in town.

Here's the line-up I'm playing with for this year:

Gobbledigook - Sigur Ros

Kim & Jessie - M83

Quelqu'un M'a Dit - Carla Bruni

Texas 71 - Magnolia Electric Co.

When Your Mind's Made Up - Glen Hansard

Crying - TV On The Radio

Jimmy - M.I.A.

Belles - The Gutter Twins

Pop Lie - Okkervil River

Room To Rock - Matthew Sweet

Afterglow (Of Your Love) - The Small Faces

Mansion On The Hill - Bruce Springsteen

Just Like A Woman - Bob Dylan

Down The Line - Jose Gonzalez

In Field & Town - Hayden

Made In The Dark - Hot Chip

I Shall Be Released - Wilco w/Fleet Foxes

Some alternative suggestions . . .

Well, I certainly got an earful (or, should it be eyeful, as the text isn't actually making a sound) from my post yesterday. If there's one thing I've learned in my short time writing this blog, it's that you never know what'll set someone off. And, apparently, the band Los Lonely Boys is a pretty touchy subject amongst quite a few.

Folks, just remember, this blog is the opinion of one person. Most of the posts are meant to be poking fun. Don't take such offense.  

I was only attempting to say that there are FAR too many Christmas albums released each year. Oftentimes, they tend to defeat the true nature of the season. 

Remember the words of the immortal Grinch: Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store.

So, I've decided to put my money where my mouth is today. Instead of being snarky, I've instead opted to offer up a few of my favorite Christmas albums. 

Then, you Los Lonely Boys fans can continue to tear me a new one.

Bing Crosby - White Christmas - Truly a classic, Mr. Crosby's voice is warm enough to melt the hearts of even the chilliest of cynics. There is really no point for modern performers to bother singing "White Christmas," as they'll never equal the perfection that is Crosby's original (though, his "original," on most pressings, is actually a rerecording done in 1947 which used many of the same elements from his actual original recording from 1942). 

The copy I have of this is released under it's original title, Merry Christmas.

Vince Guaraldi Trio - A Charlie Brown Christmas - Christmas just isn't Christmas without Charles M. Schulz's annual cartoon parable. A beautiful accompaniment to the famous Peanuts imagery, Guaraldi's bouncy jazz score is almost more memorable than the story it supports. And the brilliant instrumental "Christmas Time Is Here" is enough to bring a tear to one's eye.

Low - Christmas - This short EP, released in 1999, shows the group Low at its best. Known for their stripped, slow sound, there is a haunting quality to many of these songs. Yet, "Just Like Christmas," one of the 5 originals on the 8-track disk, is easily one of the peppiest songs the group has ever released.

The genuine thought in the lyrics to "If You Were Born Today" shows that Low isn't here to pad their bankbooks with this release. There is a message here that they're trying to spread. It is smart stuff that's disguised in quiet charm.

John Denver & The Muppets - A Christmas Together - Anything Muppet related tends to get a free pass from me, but this album is genuinely good. The soundtrack to a 1979 Christmas special, A Christmas Together blends the silliness of the Jim Henson creations with the tender voice of Denver. The duets are often quite a bit of fun, but it's the quieter moments that make this album special. It says quite a bit when a character like Rowlf can make you hold your loved ones a little bit closer when listening to his duet with Denver on "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

Christmas with the Chipmunks - Though not quite as charming as an adult, this is still a Christmas must-have. Truly an example of Christmas cash-in, it still makes my eyes light up and my mouth smile whenever I hear it. This is an album that reawakens the child within and reminds that child that there's a lot of fun out in the world. Though, as an adult, Dave really comes across as a psycho show dad, doesn't he?

The most unnecessary new holiday albums

Every year, record companies and music artists alike join forces to produce an avalanche of holiday albums. And, every year, enough copies seem to sell to keep the onslaught alive and well the following Christmas season.

In 2008, over 30 major recording artists released Christmas albums.

Here, in my opinion, are the most unnecessary:

1. Elliott Yamin - My Kind of Holiday - The former American Idol contestant is releasing his second Christmas album, following 2007's Sounds of the Season. Here's the catch: Yamin only has ONE other album. So, thus far, his holiday records outnumber any actual recordings he's ever done.

Los Lonely Boys - Christmas Spirit - I suppose the gents in Los Lonely Boys, having failed to remotely crack the Billboard charts in quite some time, decided a Christmas album might be their ticket back into the spotlight. But, if a stale music act releases a CD and there's no one around to care, does it still make a sound?

Update: I've been informed by many of the rabid LLB fans out there that the band actually does quite a bit of charity work. I can only hope that some of the money generated by this album's sale goes toward these causes that they support. If so, then they get a pass. A suspicious pass, but a pass, nonetheless. 

The Archies Christmas Album - Really? Do we even need to debate the need for this?

Elvis Presley - Christmas Duets - This album is actually a huge hit right now, currently sitting at #14 on Amazon's music bestseller list.

The man has been dead for 31 years people! Is listening to his old recordings being mauled into "duets" by the likes of Gretchen Wilson and Carrie Underwood really going to help bring Christmas cheer? Why not buy one of the King's actual holiday albums? You know, the one's he made while he was alive and capable of thought? The ones that he had at least some control over?

Oh, the list goes on and on. Harry Connick Jr. is releasing his third Christmas CD this year, as is Tony Bennett. Amy Grant has what appears to be her 4000th collection of Christmas songs on the shelves just in time for stocking stuffers to gobble it up. Enya has her first Christmas CD out.

When does it end?

Honestly, the reason these artists, and in some cases I use that word loosely, release these albums year after year is because we, the public, buy them by the truckload. Are there good intentions? Perhaps here and there. But, the question remains, how much is too much? Should every musician get one free pass to try their hand at a holiday classic? Should there be some sort of regulation enforced to prevent the destruction of carols by one-hit-wonders? Will any of these albums matter thirty years from now, or will Bing Crosby still warm our hearts with "White Christmas?" Will future generations instead substitute his tones with Elliott Yamin's new "Let's Be Naughty (And Save Santa the Trip)?"

Only time will tell.

The horrors of the holidays

I was scanning around YouTube today and decided to do a search of folks singing Christmas songs. Naturally, I was looking for horrible, horrible examples to share with all of you.

Here are my findings:

According to YouTuber Dabugi, this was his "pathetic attempt at a last minute Christmas greeting. I turned the radio on and started singing the first song that came on. It wasn't until 'Chestnuts' that I even knew what song it was." 

I must say, my favorite elements to the video are: 1. This man's dedication to finishing the song, 2. The annoyed cat that wanders through about 1/3 of the way in, and 3. The awesome "intense eyes" the guy uses throughout the performance.

Okay, so what's really weird with this one is that the performer seems to be nude. Why? We'll never know. And maybe that's a good thing.

A great component of this performance is the fact that the singer is too scared to show her face, choosing instead to hide behind a roll of wrapping paper. What's even better are the dead eyes she has while obviously speed reading the lyrics to the "12 Days of Christmas."

The jacket. The reverb in his voice. The swaying. What can I say? Brilliant.

Gimme something to write on . . .

My buddy Mark turned me onto the following video. Several months ago (probably this past spring), someone out there in the big wide world of ours posted online the David Lee Roth vocal master track from the Van Halen hit "Runnin' With The Devil." If you haven't heard this, you must seek it out. It is quite hilarious.

Well, it appears this mysterious music trickster, or someone else with time and access to 28-year-old masters, has done it again. Here is David's vocal track for "Hot For Teacher." Though not as initially satisfying as "Runnin'," it's worth a listen just to hear the "Oh My God" line at about the 3:20 point.

via idolator

Digging the deep

I can speak again. That is a very good thing. What's even better is that my voice is still extremely deep. I gotta say, I'm totally digging it. I'm honestly going to miss the velvet tones my voice box has been fluttering once this cold leaves my body and my voice rises in pitch.

When you think about it, it's only natural to want this kind of rich voice. Right now, I could be one hell of a voiceover artist. Or, a really sexy soul singer. The second coming of Barry White of Isaac Hayes (minus the Scientology)?

At the very least, I could become the next Chocolate Rain, right?

As I bask in my fleeting, sweet baritone, I salute some of the best deep-voiced humans to walk (and talk) this wet, dirty thing we call Earth.

Here are my top 5 deep-voiced wonders, in random order:

1. Don LaFontaine: The late, great ubiquitous movie trailer voice artist. In a world without Mr. LaFontaine, who will handle the duties of saying, "In a world . . ." at the beginning of every trailer?

2. Tom Waits - The coolest singer/songwriter in the world, hands down. And his lyrics cut straight to the bone. Here's Mr. Waits performing his amazing "Day After Tomorrow." If this song doesn't bring out an emotion from deep within your soul, dear reader, you are a robot. Perhaps you're Vicki from Small Wonder. Check to see if you have a control panel on your back and an annoying little brother that says "Whoppers!" all the time.

3. James Earl Jones - The man was Darth Vader, Mufasa, and the voice of CNN. Plus, he played the pivotal role of "Royal Flush XP Toilet" in a 2004 episode of According to Jim! What can't this man do? One thing's for sure, he knows his alphabet.

4. Bowzer from Sha Na Na - This is strictly a childhood love. As a kid, I couldn't get enough of the Sha Na Na variety show. I'd get up on the living room coffee table during the closing credits and jump to the floor when the band jumped off stage. Classic. Sadly, Bowzer now sells Time Life "Oldies But Goodies" music compilations via 3 a.m. infomercials. But, man, what a bass.

5. Rowlf - Okay, not a human, technically (though he had some human in him, if you know what I mean). But, he's a dog that can play piano! How can you not respect that? Plus, he can play WELL! Here he is away from his 88, reading his poem titled "Silence:"

Criss Angel '80s hair band video

Criss Angel, magician, "mindfreak" and apparent Hugh Hefner-castoff knight-in-shining-Long-Island-charm, is often an unintentionally hilarious magician. He's really kind of a goof, from his super serious tricks to his cheesy jewelry and his oddly obsessive fans. Really, how can you take this face seriously?

Anyway, Mr. Angel, it seems, was once part of a hair metal band. Well, more like a hair metal/magic band. With Criss being a Long Island boy, I suppose this shouldn't be much of a shock. And, as with many bands, the boys in the group adopted a simple name, the "must've-taken-three-seconds-to-decide" moniker Angel.

In the video below for the single "Don't You Want My Love," watch as Criss channels Jon Bon Jovi, David Lee Roth, Steven Tyler, Paul Stanley, Michael Jackson, and others as he warbles his way though tricks and licks.

When you wake up feeling old

I feel old today. It might have something to do with the sinus/migraine headache I've been battling for the past 36 hours. I might also have to do with the concert I attended last night, where the average age of ticket holders had to be around 15.

Yes, I went to a concert while my head throbbed. Kind of stupid, I know. But, the sinus medication I am taking takes the edge off enough to function. Plus, the tickets were a gift from the Professor for my birthday.

Still, I realize how silly it was to go to a chest-rattling concert when one's head was already sore.

Feeling old at a concert is always a bit odd, especially the first time it happens. This, of course, is the peril of the entertainment known as the "all ages show." My introduction to this phenomenon, or, "The Old," was about a year ago. It took the form of a M.I.A. performance in Worcester, MA. Not only did I feel twice the age of most of the attendants as I waited with my friend Seth outside the venue for the doors to open, I also felt really, really un-hip in the wardrobe department. There were clothes there that I had never seen before. So, this is what is sold at all those stores in the mall, I thought. Neons. Crazy stripes. Odd fittings. Intricate hairdos. Headbands. Headbands? Yup, headbands. They were all on display.

My Levi jeans and polo shirt didn't seem very cool that night. Especially when I saw the few parents who tagged along wearing the same clothes.

The event brought me back to being a 15-year-old myself, looking at the 30-somethings in the crowd at whatever rock show I had gotten to go to and wondering, Why are they here? Are they someone's chaperone or something?

It's sad to feel old.

Last night, seeing M83 play at Pearl Street in Northampton (which, by the way, was a great show), I didn't feel quite as lame in my polo shirt and jeans, as most of the kids were t-shirt and jeans wearers. No, what made me feel old last night, besides the fact that I kept looking at kids on the floor in slack-jawed wonder at the oddities on display (like, why are you wrapping your head in your scarf, fake-ID 18-year-old? Or, wow, you're really into this music, long-haired, 75-minute-long fist-pumping death metal kid!) was the practically visible line that separated the children from the adults. 

The basement club section of Pearl Street has two levels, separated by a handrail and two short stairs. On the bottom level there is a small dance floor and the stage. Behind the rail, up the stairs, one finds the bar and breathing room. Needless to say, the kids were up front, while us old folks stood a safe distance away and drank our $5 Harpoons.

It made me remember my last visit to Pearl Street. It was over a decade ago. I was out visiting the Professor, then just a undergrad at Mount Holyoke. We made our way to Pearl Street to see a show with a couple of friends. And we fought to be against the stage that night. What was the point of a concert if you weren't in the thick of the action? we thought. In our minds, if you couldn't read the set list taped the the monitor, then you weren't really part of the show.

Boy, does time change a person. Last night, standing above the crowd, my medicine wearing off as the final encore was being performed, the right side of my head beginning to pound, I wasn't thinking about being part of the show. All I was thinking was, Why didn't I bring more medication? Man, I hope this is almost over!

Then, I hopped on my Rascal scooter, ate a Werther's Original, complained about kids some more, mentioned how cold it was, and rode home just in time to catch the 1 a.m. Matlock on the Hallmark Channel.  

What a night!

Live music: Matthew Sweet at the Paradise in Boston

To call Matthew Sweet's newest album, Sunshine Lies, a "comeback" would be a bit of a slight on the musician. You see, Sweet really hasn't gone anywhere. Sure, his only solo stateside release over the past nine years (since 1999's Brian Wilson/Phil Spector-influenced In Reverse) was the disappointing 2004 effort Living Things, but Sweet also released the quite-good Japanese-only import Kimi Ga Suki * Raifu in 2003. Add in his bizarre turn in the group the Thorns and his 2006 covers album collaboration with Susanna Hoffs (Under the Covers) and one can see that Mr. Sweet really has been as busy as many of his peers. 

So, to say that Mr. Sweet is "back" really doesn't seem all that fair.

But, I will say this. Sunshine Lies is Sweet's most consistent effort this decade. Much like the album's aptly titled opening track, "Time Machine," the songs on Lies bring the listener back to Sweet's power-pop peak. There is a familiarity that flows through the album, making the new songs old after a first listen. And, by saying "old," I'm not intending to insult. What I mean is that the songs feel comfortable. They aren't forced. And each could easily have fit on Sweet's timeless albums Girlfriend, Altered Beast, or 100% Fun.

To prove this point, Mr. Sweet blended these new "old" songs seamlessly with his crowd-pleasing classics as he and his trusty road band took the stage Monday night at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston. The set started with the first 3 tracks off of Lies: the aforementioned "Time Machine," "Room to Rock," and "Byrdgirl." Shortly thereafter, Sweet seemed to find his groove and dipped into the back catalog. The band played "We're the Same," with Sweet admitting he hadn't sung the lyrics in such a long time, he would most likely screw something up. This lead to the audience favorite, and Guitar Hero 2 track, "Girlfriend." After finishing the song, the audience had become putty in the performer's hand. 

Sweet's touring band consisted of many of his usual suspects. Tony Marsico kept steady rhythm on bass. Paul Chastain backed Sweet's jingle-jangle guitar strokes. Ric Menck, real-life Animal, dazzled on drums. And Pete Phillips did Ivan Julian, Richard Lloyd, and the late Robert Quine justice on lead guitar, floating and punching throughout the 75 minute set.

The show closed with two separate encores. Upon first rejoining the audience, the band played "Divine Intervention" and a smoldering version of "You Don't Love Me," which turned into a near-Crazy Horse jam as it built toward the end. After leaving and returning for their second encore, Sweet lead the way with a version of "Superdeformed," a non-album track originally found on the '90s compilation No Alternative.

It was a fitting way to end the evening. With the lyric "my blood is still warm," the performance showed that Matthew Sweet still has some fire left to burn. With Lies, he has shown that there are still more pop nuggets to be written.

Just, next time this happens, don't call it a comeback.  

Reading into the lyrics: Joe Visconti's "America"

I don't know if I have to say this again, but I'm new here. So, from my total outsider perspective, Joe Visconti, West Hartford Town Council member and current Republican candidate for the First Congressional District of Connecticut, comes across as a total character. I mean, how many candidates for Congress have their own CD?

Wait, did anyone out there not know this?

Yes, over at josephvisconti.com, you can not only look at some pretty boss photos of Mr. Visconti in his "artist" pose, but you can purchase his brand new album. You can also watch the video for his single "America."

I'm watching it right now. There's the American flag, flapping proudly in the air. Black and white photos are beginning to fade in and out, showing the history of our great nation. And, here comes Mr. Visconti's voice. "America," he starts. "The pipes are calling."

Hey, hold up a minute! These lyrics seem VERY familiar. I think I've heard these words before. In fact, I'm positive I've heard these words before.

Time for a little internet digging . . .

Okay, here we go.

The following is the first verse and chorus of Joe Visconti's "America." After each line, I have included songs and musicians who use the exact same lyrics as Joe in their own, well published and often-times very popular songs:

America (Neil Diamond, Simon and Garfunkel, Bernstein/Sondheim)
The pipes are calling (Danny Boy)
From the rock of ages (Def Leppard, Grant Lee Buffalo, "Rock of Ages" traditional hymn, and countless others)
America
Can you see the dawn's
Early light? ("Star-Spangled Banner")
You were there (Amy Grant, Babyface, Michael Jackson)
You were there
When my eyes had seen the glory ("Battle Hymn of the Republic")
As I walked
Through the valley of the shadow of death (well, besides Psalm 23:4, Nas, Kanye West, Coolio, Megadeth, and just about a million others)
Liberty belongs
To everyone
Freedom is a song (Sinead O’Connor)
That must be sung (Peter, Paul & Mary)
Love is all we need (a little outfit called The Beatles, but, you've probably never heard of them. They're British.)
To understand
That brotherhood and peace (Mac Davis)
Are right at hand

There are a lot of similar lyrics in this song, aren't there? Someone is guilty of sloppy song writing, if you ask me.

Now, I'm not saying that Mr. Visconti cribs all of his notes from the big boys out there in the music world, but can anyone in this day and age get away with singing "love is all we need" and NOT carry the last name McCartney or Starr? Oh, but in The Beatles' song, the lyric is "love is all YOU need." This could be another Vanilla Ice/Queen dispute over originality (in their case, it was over the rhythm to "Ice Ice Baby" sounding awfully familiar to "Under Pressure"). But, something tells me the Fab Two are too busy to care. 

Something also tells me that Mr. Visconti has very little chance in winning the popular vote eight days from now. It's a shame, really, because I'm sure he'd come up with a pretty interesting acceptance speech. Maybe something along these lines . . .

I haven't had an orthodox career, and I've wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn't feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me! Reverend clergy, fellow citizens, we observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom - symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning - signifying renewal, as well as change. O God, our gracious Heavenly Father, help us to see the insights that come from this new nation. Help us to follow Thee and all of Thy creative works in this world, and that somehow we will discover that we are made to live together as brothers And that it will come in this generation: the day when all men will recognize the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. I am the king of the world! 

In case you were wondering, that speech is a combination of the following: Sally Field's academy award speech from 1985, JFK's inaugural speech from 1961, Martin Luther King's "Birth of a New Nation" speech from 1957, and James Cameron'c academy award speech from 1998.

Of course, I'm just having a little bit of fun here. Regardless of his talent as a musician, I'm sure Mr. Visconti is a viable candidate. I may not be a Republican, but I can't fault anyone for taking on the enormous task and responsibility associated with a run at a major office. Plus, our nation may have a first-term governor/hockey mom from Alaska as our 2nd in command, so why can't Joe be a Congressman? 

I wish Mr. Visconti, as well as all of the candidates, the best of luck in the election.

But, man, a rockin' and rollin' Congressman would certainly help kick the uptight image of Connecticut, wouldn't it?