Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. DXXVIII--Kathleen Edwards: Hockey Skates

 What's eight days late between friends?

My introduction to this week's tune is one I've used a time or two before--Nick Hornby's book about his favorite songs, Songbook. Tucked away at the end of the book was a section where Hornby mentioned newer songs (at the time) that he'd heard and was enjoying.  Pretty much gave a listen to all of them on Napster (remember Napster?), and this week's song, an exceptional folk ditty, hit me immediately and has stayed with me to this very day....

Kathleen Edwards hails from the Great White North (not to be confused with us, the Shithole Down South), where she was born in Ottawa in 1978.  At the ripe old age of twenty-one she recorded her first EP and pressed 500 copies.  Within a year she was on her first tour, and in 2002 released her first studio album.  Edwards has had a modicum of commercial success, with four of her albums charting on the Billboard 200 (highest peaked at #39) and has also had a #2 album in her native Canada.  She's also been nominated for seven Juno Awards.  For her career, Edwards has released five studio albums, four EP's, and thirteen singles.  Edwards took a break from music for mental health reasons in 2014 but returned with a new album in 2020.  She continues to tour.

Fun Fact:  Edwards brother bought her the first album she ever owned--a record by emaycee fave Tom Petty.  

"Hockey Skates" was the third single released from her debut album, the rather inauspiciously entitled Failer.  Neither the single nor the album charted in either country.

Sad. Angry. Disappointed.  Edwards sings of the perils of being yourself when you're a woman, whether in the context of a relationship or being one of the guys.  I absolutely love the guitar in this one, from beginning to end, but especially the one, two, three, I'm outta here vibe off and on.  Edwards captures the small-town ennui both lyrically and vocally, and the resignation of that life in her voice is heartbreaking.  Edwards was in her early twenties when she wrote "Hockey Skates," and she shows and an eye for detail that is beyond her years.  Kudos for the Canadian writing a song with a nod to the country's national sport, hockey--it's a light touch that resonates.  Just a wonderful piece of work, especially for an old fart folkie like me.

Lyric Sheet:  "I am so sick of consequence/And the look on your face/I am tired of playing defense/And I don't even have hockey skates..."

Enjoy:

Fuck Donald Trump

Peace,

emayce

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CCCXXXVII--A.C. Newman: Drink to Me, Babe, Then

 I originally thought my introduction to this week's tune was Nick Hornby's homage to his favorite songs, Songbook, but when I scanned through it before writing this week's post, this week's song was nowhere to be found.  I know my daughter introduced me to Newman's band the New Pornographers, but I'm reasonably certain she didn't lead me to the song, either.  My best guess is Rolling Stone magazine--seems like they had an under the radar songs/albums each issue when I was still subscribing and it may have been noted in that feature.  Oh, the perils of getting old....

A.C. Newman (who, near as I can tell, goes by Carl when he's doing his non-solo work) got his start in Vancouver, British Columbia in the early nineties with a band called Superconductor.  After a short stay he moved onto a band called Zumpano which released a couple of albums.  He then became one of the founding members of the aforementioned New Pornographers (for which he's the main vocalist and songwriter) and has enjoyed quite a bit of critical and commercial success, including numerous mentions on best of indie lists and four top forty albums here in the States.  Newman has done solo projects on and off since 2004 while continuing his work with the New Pornographers.  He has released three solo albums (the latest in 2012), and most recently helped release the New Pornographers eighth LP in 2019.

Fun Fact:  Newman chose A.C. Newman as his solo moniker because it sounded like a pseudonym, even thought it isn't--his real name is Allan Carl Newman....

"Drink to Me, Babe, Then" was released in 2004 on Newman's debut solo effort, The Slow Wonder.  The song was not released as a single, and the album did not chart.  

Every time I hear "Drink to Me, Babe, Then" I think "Jesus, what a great song," but as I thought about it this week I realized I'd have a tough time trying to say why.  I mean there's Newman's vocal inflections which probably aren't standard fare but say so much, and then there's the droning guitar over a plaintive drum which gives the song a somewhat odd backdrop.  There's a nice whistling section toward the end of the song as well as a smattering of other instruments throughout, none of which I could be certain of which instrument in particular was playing (though did I hear some kazoos in there?).  And I couldn't say with any certainty what the song is about, though if I had to guess it's about a man reflecting on a relationship that failed, but in such a way as to leave neither of the lovers too much the worse for wear (though for some odd ass reason I think she ended up happier than our narrator?).  I've been reading a lot of poetry lately and as I read I keep coming back to the last lines of Archibald MacLeish's "Ars Poetica" in which he proclaims, "A poem should not mean/But be" (possibly because I struggle mightily to figure out just what each poem I read means) and maybe that's the best I can say for "Drink to Me, Babe, Then"--it exists, and in my little corner of the rock and roll world, that just might be enough.

Lyric Sheet:  "We're offended, shocked our plan would fail/Now you've wandered farther from the trail/On a landslide you ride in..."

Enjoy:

You Have a Choice:  Pass a Voting Rights Bill, or Welcome Fascism to America

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. LXIX--Jesse Malin: Brooklyn

Truth be told, I know nothing by Jesse Malin other than this song.  I originally found it in the Appendix of Nick Hornby's fine dissertation on his favorite songs, Songbook--"Brooklyn" was merely a song on a list of newer tunes that Hornby had been enjoying.  I downloaded it on Kaaza and fell in love with it instantly.

Malin started in music at the ripe old age of 12 (seriously? who's in a real band at 12?) in 1980 leading a hard core punk band called Heart Attack, which auditioned at the famed club CBGB's only to not get a gig because it was feared the young members couldn't attract a drinking crowd.  Heart Attack is actually quite well known throughout New York City, notably for its youth as the band members raged in age from 12 to 16.  Malin would later go on to form the glam rock band D Generation in the 90's which was apparently quite well received critically, not that I'd ever heard of them before (and I don't live in NYC, either, so there).  Eventually Malin would go solo, with his first album produced by Ryan Adams (also the first album produced by Adams), and he's still performing today, some thirty-six years later.

Released on his solo debut record The Fine Art of Self Destruction  (and what a great LP title that is), "Brooklyn" had little or no commercial success outside of New York (if even there).  I'm not one hundred percent certain what the song is about--it's obviously a remembrance of things past, but whether the "you" in the song is a past love (most likely), best friend, or sibling really isn't made clear.  Malin's lyrics for the song are nothing if not subtle, so we're left with a lot of thoughtful images that evoke the loss he sings of.

The song starts with a nice acoustic guitar intro (soft but full), though the guitars eventually fade into the background and give way to a quiet piano that sets the mood and continues to the end.  The highlight of "Brooklyn" is by far and away Malin's vocals--it's a song about loss and his singing evinces the protagonists sadness throughout.  The simplest way to say it is that he just nails it.  The chorus is repeated often (emaycee fave!), though in an odd twist, the lyrics leading up to the chorus are short so it just seems like the story is starting before you're back in the middle of it.  But somehow it all works--I'd be hard pressed to name too many songs by unheard of artists with no commercial success (though there are a few) who recorded a song that would make my top 100 of all time, but "Brooklyn" would.  It's a gem.

Liner note:  "You used to like the sad songs of doom and gloom..."

Enjoy:

Peace,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol XVII--Eels: Rock Hard Times

Silly me--I don't keep up much with music reviews anymore, and I had assumed since they formed in 1995 that Eels were  a semi-hip band that most people who were familiar with them at least liked.  Turns out they are more a  love 'em or hate 'em outfit.  While I wouldn't classify them as my favorite band, I'm more in the love 'em camp.

I first became awate of Eels with their hit "Novocaine for the Soul" (#1 with a bullet on the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks and also a top ten hit in the U.K.), which I heard late at night on a local alternative station while I was writing the worst novel ever written (I've also written the second worst novel ever, a rare double feat that I'm quite proud of).  A few years later while reading Nick Hornby's tribute to some of his favorite singles, Songbook, he had an addenda in which one of the newer songs he listed was "Rock Hard Times" and for me, it was love at first listen.

Released in 2003, it was featured on their/his (read the Eels link) album Shootenanny, and wasn't actually released as a single.  No matter--the song is one of their/his best with frontman Mark "E" Everett's weary mellow soul vocals (California pop!), some nice self deprecating lyrics, a touch of the jangly guitars, and a catchy as all hell chorus.  It's a feel good song that isn't a feel good song, and "rock hard times" are something far too many of us have felt the last few years personally, economically, and politically.

And yes, everybody knows we all just  "...gotta make it through..." them....

Enjoy:

Peace,
emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. I--Crosby, Stills, and Nash: "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes"

Because I haven't wasted enough of my life on pop music....

For those wondering, it's a song a week, some hits and some not, in no particular order, because touting a great song a week seems somehow worthwhile, goddamnit.  CSN's "Suite:  Judy Blue Eyes" starts it off because last year on some night I couldn't sleep I came across Woodstock on VH1 and this was the first song I heard and I distinctly remember asking myself at two or three in the morning, "Holy shit, has this song always been this good?"  And I thought the whole world (or at least the two or three people who regularly read this blog) should know just how good it was....

Word of warning:  on the Pop Music Coolness Quotient, Nick Hornby I aint.

For those not familiar, "Suite:  Judy Blue Eyes" is as the name suggests--a suite of  four songs, dedicated to Stephen Stills love of the time, folk goddess Judy Collins, amid their imminent breakup.  There's also a play on words with "suite" and "sweet" for those who enjoy the English language....  If nothing else, it's worth listening to just for the harmonies of Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and some great acoustic guitar from Stephen Stills.

Enjoy:

Peace,
emaycee