Originally written on June 20, 2006.

“Portland, Oregon” – Loretta Lynn with Jack White
From Van Lear Rose

Over the last several years I’ve heard a lot of buzz about Jack White and the White Stripes. They were leaders in the whole garage rock will save us trip a few years ago when a few guitar-heavy bands with singular names began to bust down the teen pop revolution from the likes of Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera.

I was certainly no fan of teen pop, but musically I was in my own world of bootlegs, folk, bluegrass, and jam bands. If I wanted garage rock to save my soul I had music from the 60’s to do it. What did I need the Vines or the Shins or Jack White for?

When White produced a highly praised album by Loretta Lynn he got my attention. I didn’t know much about Loretta Lynn except her old-school country roots, which was more than enough to get me to buy this album.

Truth be told, I flippin’ loved it. Loretta’s country charms and home-spun tales mixed perfectly with Mr. White’s loud rollicking guitars. Loretta seemed to give White a grounding while he stirred up Loretta’s dust.

This is, perhaps, the best song on the disk, a duet no less with a good story to back up the electricity.

I’ve found the truth in the White Stripes and I’ve begun to find the path again to Rock ‘n Roll.

“Manic Monday” – The Bangles
From Different Light

Somewhere in the 90’s nostalgia for everything 80’s began to come around. Halfway through that decade, it seemed all of my peers were enamored with the one we had just left. I spent the latter part of the millennium picking up every greatest hits package I could find from the “Me Decade.”

For the most part, I’ve lost patience with all the one-hit wonders and giant popsters. I think I saturated myself too intensely with the stuff. It’s kind of like on pop stations today where they play the same four songs over and over again. Even if those songs are fantastic, you get sick of hearing them. There are a lot of songs from the 80’s, but there isn’t a “hit” that I’m not sick of hearing.

That being said, the Bangles were one of the larger rock acts of the time, and this song is a nice one (though I’d still take “Walk Like an Egyptian” over this one.)

“Belleville Rendez-Vous” – Ben Charest
From The Triplets of Belleville

Ah, this is more to my liking these days. The movie, Triplets of Belleville is a lovely, stylistic, beautiful tale of a French bicyclist who teams up with some vaudeville-style singers to rescue his kidnapped grandmother. It is told with almost no dialog but engages the viewer with glorious visuals and a soundtrack to dance to.

This is the theme song, and it’s a bouncy, jazzy, dance-along affair. The kind of song used to impress young college girls and music store hipsters. This is the French version, so I can’t actually understand much of what is being sung, but I don’t care. It’s enunciated in a manner that allows me to sing along while totally destroying the words.

Watch the movie, and buy the soundtrack.

“Waste” – Phish
From Billy Breathes

I’ve never been much for Phish. For a while many claimed they were descendants of the throne of the Grateful Dead, a proclamation that garnered them as many detractors as it did fans.

I think they are astute musicians with some pretty darn fine chops, but I just can’t get into their songs. Partially it is the lyrics. Lyrically they are more Zappa-influenced than Robert Hunter. Though I’m not really a lyric guy, I want what I can understand to make some sort of sense – to be funny, poetic, or at least interesting. Phish seems to be mostly silly, and it kind of annoys me.

Billy Breathes is supposed to be their American Beauty, their masterpiece. And while it does have some killer songs, as a whole it doesn’t get a lot of spins at my house. “Waste” is a pretty mellow rocker, with some lyrics I can actually kind of dig. “Come waste your time with me” is something I can put my larynx into.

There is a nice follow-up with the lyrics, and the melody is nice and smooth. If the rest of their songs had this kind of flow, I might become a fan.

“Wayfaring Stranger” – Natalie Merchant
From House Carpenter’s Daughter

I’m an old 10,000 Maniacs fan, and followed Natalie into her first solo disk. After that I kind of lost track. I’ve dug the hits and nearly bought her folkie albums, always balking at the ever-increasing charge for a full album these days.

“Wayfaring Stranger” is absolutely one of my all-time favorite songs. Its lyrics burrow down into the depths of my insides, and its sad weepful melody knocks me out. Natalie’s accented, lisp of a voice carries with it some kind of mystery. The backing band on this live version (not actually on House Carpenter’s Daughter) plays the song in the reserved, hushed tones it deserves.