Have Some Sympathy …

 

A good song will stand up to almost any amount of abuse in the recording studio.  For example: most hits by The Rolling Stones before 1978.

All His Hopes and Dreams

 

I’m old enough and sad enough about the current state of affairs to have written several dozen songs lamenting the way we seem to choose to live.  But when I hear The Pretender by Jackson Browne, I realize I haven’t come close.

There’s No Need For Argument

 

Van Morrison deserves respect as a songwriter, but I wish his songs had been recorded by Springsteen.  Take, for example, Domino.

I Woke Up This Morning …

 

Over the years, I’ve heard lots of criticism about 12-bar blues, all of it boiling down to: it’s boring because it’s so predictable.

 

Fair enough, but do you know why it’s endured all these years?  Because it works.

Or Else Expecting Rain

 

Check out the lyrics for Dylan’s Desolation Row. 

 

How can one guy be this …  insightful, cutting, good, clever, empathic, cynical, hypnotic, intimate?

 

Thanks, Bob.  Wow!  Ouch!  Right on!  Yeah, that’s what I thought.

 

I think.

Deep Inside My Heart I Know I Can’t Escape

 

Here’s some heresy for you:

 

Who is the greatest blues songwriter?  Willie Dixon?  Robert Johnson?  Howlin’ Wolf?  Muddy Waters?  B.B. King?

 

I think a serious case could be made for one Robert Zimmerman.

We Can’t Rewind, We’ve Gone Too Far

 

Maybe it’s not high art, but poignant lyrics and a thoughtful arrangement

elevate Video Killed the Radio Star above the status of just a silly pop song.

Don’t Think Twice

 

In the run up to Bob Dylan’s 80^th birthday, there have been dozens of articles offering praise, trivia and insights.  As a fan, of course I read them.

 

One of the more interesting tidbits I picked up was the notion that Dylan’s songs are paintings.  You don’t have to understand them.  You don’t even have to like them.  You only have to know whether they speak to you.

 

Speaking for myself, they do.  Yeah, they do.

You’ll Be Laughing

 

I have a playlist called Rock and Roll Heaven (it’s short; about a hundred songs).  The other night when I was listening to it, the first three songs that played were:

1. Be My Lover by Alice Cooper 
2. John Lennon’s cover of Stand By Me 
3. Permanent Waves by The Kinks 

 

Aside from reminding me that the 70’s wasn’t all disco and prog wankarama, what do they have in common?  Well, if you made a Venn diagram of the three artists, you’d find humour in the centre.

 

Sure, John gives one of his overpowering performances where you believe Every. Single. Word.  

 

But John was the funniest guy in a very funny band called The Beatles who were constantly amused that we all took them so seriously.  Alice Cooper could never be accused of taking himself seriously.  Ditto Ray Davies.

 

Yes, a lot of us are still hopeful that music can change the world, but it’s a healthy reminder that, although it might not be a joke, Rock and Roll really is just a bit of fun.

She’s Taking Chances

Mark Knopfler is an incredible storyteller and gifted poet with a bagful of masterpieces, but his absolute best song is Skateaway.

 

If Bruce Springsteen had done this song it would have been a number one hit and would have entered the ranks of timeless, beloved anthems.  Because it tells you about how the best songs merge with your life – just like The Boss’s most memorable songs do.

 

The music makes you want to be the story, and the story is whatever is the song.

We’ve Got To Find A Way

It’s only taken 49 years, but I finally figured out that What’s Going On is a pretty good song.

Trance and Dance

I’m convinced that all the good grooves haven’t been found yet.

Don’t You Believe Them

Just   …   listen to Bruce Hornsby’s The Way It Is.

You Stole My Heart

Whenever I hear the opening strains of Maggie May by Rod Stewart, I always think:  Oh no, not again.  I mean, it’s been, like twelve million times, right?  And I’ve always thought the lyrics were, I dunno, a bit lazy or something.

But then, by the time the guitar solo comes around, I think: Actually, this is a pretty good song.

Then when the mandolin kicks off the coda I realize all over again that I’ve been listening to a masterpiece.

There’s So Much You Have To Know

If Cat Stevens added a verse or two to Father and Son, and added the perspective of the grandfather, well  …  I’m old enough to also relate to that.

But I’m still pulling for the son.

It Happened Just The Other Day

I have been guilty of saying some unkind things about David Crosby, but I will say this: Almost Cut My Hair is one powerful tune.  Every single time I hear it, I stop what I’m doing and think: ‘Damn Right!’

I couldn’t even say what part of the lyrics grabs me ‘cause I’m not even sure I get them – but I’m not giving in an inch either if I can help it.

Like the Trembling Heart of a Captive Bird?

In case you needed more proof that computers should not be running our lives, check out this article, in which it is revealed that the saddest song of all time – as deftly calculated by clever computer algorithms – is Roberta Flack’s The First Time Ever I saw Your Face.

Nowhere To Run

No matter how many times I hear it, Born In The USA gets under my skin.  I’m not even American, but the story, the heartache, the anguish  … they’re universal.

It’s also kick-ass rock and roll.

A Higher Place

The thing about Tom Petty is, like, when you hear one of his songs, you go, I wrote that, didn’t I?

How Many Times?

If you can’t achieve immortality through song lyrics as deep and meaningful and insightful and poignant and timeless as Dylan’s Blowin’ In The Wind, then you should at least get a Nobel Prize for it.