No Thanks-Lonely Holiday

Old 97’s: Lonely Holiday
[purchase] 

For a long time after I started writing for this blog back in 2011, I tried not to repeat artists, but eventually I stopped worrying about that, because sometimes a song by an artist I had already written about called to me. And it shouldn’t be surprising that I’d want to write about bands that I like. So, I hope that you overlook the fact that not only is this the fifth time that I’ve written about the Old 97’s here, but this is actually the third song off of their great Fight Songs album that I’ve highlighted. You can read the last time I wrote about the band and album here, and it links to the three other times I’ve featured them. 

It goes without saying that we just finished the strangest Thanksgiving in a long time—maybe ever. If you want to read more about the history of the holiday—which, like so much else in our country is tied to the Civil War—read this post by the great Heather Cox Richardson. 

I’ve also written about my family Thanksgiving traditions, which were mostly blown up this year by COVID-19. Instead of a big family dinner at our house, my wife and I cooked almost as much food as we usually would, but sat down to dinner on Thursday as a couple. On Friday, we brought a bunch of leftovers to my mother-in-law for a socially distanced lunch, met my mother, brother and a nephew at a restaurant for dinner under a tent on the way back, and on Saturday, my son and daughter-in-law visited for another socially distanced meal of leftovers. Between the three meals, and the care packages distributed to our family members, we actually don’t have an enormous amount of food left over. 

So, while in some sense, it was a lonely holiday, we made the best of it. But “No Thanks,” to this sort of serial celebration, and I can’t wait until we can gather together as a family to celebrate. I’m pretty sure that Christmas will also be a lonely holiday. 

At this point, I really don’t have much more to say about the album. The song is a very typical Old 97’s song, in which a peppy melody is used to deliver some dark lyrics--this time about about loneliness, suicide and love. 

I’m going to switch things up here, and keep it short, and not get into politics.

Valentines: Valentine

Old 97’s: Valentine
[purchase]

We’ve had a tough time getting this theme started, maybe because it began after Valentine’s Day. So, before we get to a weekend without any new SMM posts, I thought I’d see what I could come up with.

A song called “Valentine,” by Old 97’s, a band that I really like, and which I have written about, at length, a few other times.

But there are a couple of things that set this song apart. First, it is not sung by Rhett Miller, but by Murry Hammond, the band’s bass player, who usually sings a couple of songs on each album. Hammond’s songs often display a sense of humor, although to be fair, lots of Old 97’s songs are funny. He’d have been a good candidate to have been the subject of a post when we did the “Other Guy” theme back in 2013 (one of my faves, by the way).

Another thing that distinguishes “Valentine” is that it is not a love song. It is, in fact, a lost love song, written not to a current "valentine,” but to one who turned out to be "wrong," and about the heartbreak and despair that comes from a broken relationship, but also the relief that something that wasn’t working ended. Back in 2015 Paste did a “12 Best Old 97’s Songs” feature, and placed “Valentine” third (a ranking that I’d quibble with—I’m not even sure it’s the third best song on Fight Songs). They quoted Hammond as saying: “It was a toxic relationship and, predictably, not a good breakup. But after all the pain and emotion of tearing it apart, I felt a simple moment of compassion and empathy for both of us. I felt a kindness toward her and tried to put that into words. She was a valuable and great human being, but one I would never know again. The girl who’s moving on."

So, maybe it really is fitting for a Valentines theme that takes place wholly after the holiday.

For the most part, Fight Songs, the album that “Valentine” appears on, is filled with more upbeat, poppy songs, for which it is sometimes criticized, but it was my introduction to the band, and I loved it then and now. But ending such an album with a mellower, more introspective song really works. Of course, that assumes that the listener would actually be listening to the entire CD, in order, an assumption that was more likely to be accurate back in 1999 than today (unless you are my wife).

Self-Reflection: Longer Than You’ve Been Alive

[purchase]

Here’s a bit of Star Maker Machine behind the scenes info—recently, in an email discussion among our writers about the frequency of posting, one veteran member of the group reminded us that posts don’t always have to be long.

He’s right, and I’m going to go against my usual inclination to ramble on to simply draw attention to this song and album by the Old 97’s, who I have written about in much greater detail already.

Last year’s excellent Most Messed Up is, for the most part, a self-reflective album, looking back on the highlights and lowlights of the band’s 20 plus year career. Specifically, the opening track, “Longer Than You’ve Been Alive,” discusses the life of a veteran touring rocker. It discusses the problems of finding love on the road, the risk of jumping off of risers, the smell of dressing rooms, the quantity of booze they have drunk, and even their drug preferences. But it is also about how much they love doing what they do. And, to make it even easier to follow, the video embedded above has all of the lyrics right there on the screen.

I mean, how could we do this theme and leave out a great song with the lyric:

I'm not crazy about songs that get self-referential 
And most of this stuff should be kept confidential 
But who even gives half a fuck anymore 
You should know the truth, it's both a blast and a bore

Scrabble Value Letters (Q): Question

Old 97’s: Question [purchase]  

Rhett Miller: Question [purchase]

The song that I chose gives me a couple of things to write about, neither of which is really about the song, although we will get to that eventually.

First, as someone who loves to listen to music, it is important to me that my family also loves to listen to music, and that turned out to be the case. My wife has often said that she knew that we were truly a couple when we alphabetized our albums (vinyl!) together. As I have previously pointed out, our musical tastes are somewhat different, but the overlap in our Venn diagram (called the “intersection,” according to Wikipedia) is big enough that we rarely fight about music. I do complain sometimes about getting snared in the sticky trap of my wife’s favorite Sirius XM’s “The Bridge” soft-rock station, and she complains about some of the harder edged things I like, and some of the jazz, and some of the prog, but we have a nice sweet spot of common likes.

When we had kids, we heard horror stories of parents being “forced” to listen to children’s music in the car, and in reaction, I created mixtapes that included the occasional kidsong along with good grownup stuff. And when our children became old enough to have their own tastes, we tried hard to be supportive. I never told my kids that something they liked was crap; instead, I tried hard to say what I liked and what I didn’t, and I think that helped. Both of my kids have turned me on to bands that I truly like, and in some cases I introduced them to artists that I liked, and they loved, which led me to appreciate them more.

The Old 97’s is a band that everyone in my family likes, and for good reason—they are great. We’ve seen them live and enjoy their great mix of Texas twang, power pop, clever lyrics and tight playing. I’ve previously written about how and why we became fans, so I won’t belabor the point, except to reiterate how great it is to share the love of music with your wife and children.

The second thing I wanted to discuss is what I will call the self remake, for lack of a better term, where an artist releases a different version of one of their own songs. I’m not talking about a live version, but when an artist takes a song and releases it changed in some way. The Rolling Stones, for example, released “Country Honk,” which completely reimagined “Honky Tonk Women” in an interesting way. Other times though, doing this leads to failure. The Police decided to re-record the perfectly fine, if creepy, “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” for a greatest hits compilation, and the newer version is just not good. Not only that, according to drummer Stewart Copeland, his fight with Sting over what synthesized drums to use on the track (the right answer would have been “none”) was the last straw in breaking up the band. Other artists have remade their own songs for copyright reasons and/or to just revisit older work with the perspective of a long career, such as John Prine or Loudon Wainwright III.

The original version of “Question” was released in 2001 on an Old 97’s album, Satellite Rides, in a very stripped down version with just Miller’s voice and acoustic guitar. The simplicity of the music fits well with the straightforward message of the song—that there is a time to say yes to love. The question at issue is a proposal, and this version was used in the TV show Scrubs when Carla says yes to Turk. People even propose on stage at Old 97’s shows when the song is played.

Personally, I like the original version, and despite my love of covers, I really see no reason why Miller needed to do a new version of the song on his 2006 solo album, The Believer (along with a new version of “Singular Girl,” a Satellite Rides bonus track). It isn’t bad, but it adds a wholly unnecessary keyboard part, and other additional production that doesn’t add to the song. I suspect that if I hadn’t heard the original, I’d love the remake, but I have, and the remake is kind of superfluous. When the whole band plays the song live, they still keep it simple, but sometimes Rhett gets fancy and sings some of the song in French, which I guess is the language of romance, but kind of makes Miller look like a show off.

Numbers: Nineteen

Old 97’s: Nineteen
[purchase Fight Songs, because Amazon doesn’t appear to have the version of Satellite Rides with the bonus track]

With a theme like this, with literally an infinite number of options, I decided to simply go with the first appropriate song that popped into my head. And this one is doubly appropriate, with a number in the title and the name of the band, proving that sometimes it is better to not overthink things.

Back in 1999, we had great neighbors across the street, Wayne and Denise. They were interesting, smart, their oldest child and our daughter were friends, and, maybe best of all, their musical taste was similar to ours. (Fact—like fingerprints, no two people have the same musical taste.) One day, Denise gave us a copy of the Old 97’s new CD, Fight Songs, as a thank you for something that we had done. I have no recollection of what it was, but I do know that the CD, and the band, became huge family favorites (and not just because, as my wife says, Rhett Miller, the lead singer, is “dreamy”). And my family’s love of the Old 97’s has continued to this date—we have seen them a few times (and Miller as a solo act), most recently a few months ago when I went with my two kids (my wife doesn’t like standing at concerts) to see them open for the Drive-By Truckers. Sadly, our neighbors moved a few miles away, and although we do see them occasionally, I suspect we would get to spend more time with them if they had stayed across the street.

The music of the Old 97’s is a fusion of country and pop, fitting them squarely in the “Americana” or “Alt-Country” world. Critics seem to like their more country sounding songs, while their more pop oriented efforts tend to be more popular. But whichever you like better, you have to appreciate the quality of the songwriting and the literate, interesting lyrics, usually from Miller, who briefly attended Sarah Lawrence College on a creative writing scholarship before dropping out to pursue his musical muse.

“Nineteen” is a song that is more rock than country, like most of Fight Songs, and like so many great songs in any genre, it is about lost love. What makes it so poignant is that the narrator realizes that he made a huge mistake in letting his love go. He acknowledges that he was an idiot, that she was great, and that he misses just lying in bed with her. And his excuse? He was only nineteen, which is “not the age of reason,” a fact borne out by many actual scientific studies. The narrator doesn’t plead for a second chance; he simply appears to accept the fact that the train has left the station without him.

The Old 97’s are a great live band. Their energy on stage is incredible, and they are tight, as they should be, considering how much they have played together in their two decades as a band. Therefore, I have posted a live version of the song, released as a bonus track on the band’s next album, Satellite Rides. They didn’t play the song when I saw them earlier this year—I read somewhere that the band won’t play it anymore, but Miller will sometimes perform it solo.

If: Cowpunk/Alt-Country Edition

Jason & The Scorchers: If the Money Talks

[purchase]

Old 97's: If My Heart Was a Car

[purchase]

Whiskeytown: If He Can't Have You

[purchase]

My run in with The Bottle Rockets earlier this week has had me in a mood to relive the glory days of the alt-country movement with some of the giants of the genre. In perusing my iTunes playlists tonight, I discovered several "If" songs from those early years.

Not so much commentary here since the new week starts in about a half hour here in the East. I would just like to point out, though, the sheer energy and abandon that is present on these tracks. The Scorchers track comes from 1985, The '97's from '94, and Whiskeytown from '96. I truly wish I had been cognizant of the movement back in those days.

Guest Stars: Four Leaf Clover

The Old 97's: Four Leaf Clover
[purchase]

The Old 97's feat. Exene Cervenka: Four Leaf Clover
[purchase]

"Four Leaf Clover" is the perfect example of how the right guest can enhance a track and really turn it into something special.

The song first appeared on The Old 97's 1994 debut Hitchhike to Rhome. It was a decent enough song at the time with a rolling drum beat and bit of a harder edge than the rest of the songs on the countrified album. But, even with that edge 97's vocalist Rhett Miller still sounds a little reserved. Solid... but not a standout track by any means. That's the first version of the song that is linked above.

In 1997, the band reworked the track for their classic album Too Far to Care. Here, they played up the rock side of the track even more with feedback, ramped up guitars, and a scorching vocal from Exene Cervenka. As a veteran of L.A. punk rock stalwarts X, Cervenka certainly knew how to bring a fire and energy to the track that was lacking in the original. Miller fed off that fire... peppering his own vocal with growls and howls that were absent the first time around.

Exene Cervenka's mere presence transforms the track from a forgettable filler to an essential album closing rocker.

The Sun: Sun Clearance

Old 97's: She Loves The Sunset

[purchase]


Groove Armada: Suntoucher

[purchase]


Traffic: Paper Sun

[purchase]


The Pernice Brothers: There Goes the Sun

[purchase]

Footwear: The Other Shoe

Old 97's: The Other Shoe [purchase]

They may be pop stars now, but back in the day the Old 97's were the little alt.country band that could, with a clever spark plug of a frontman in Rhett Miller. I think this stands as one of their best early tunes, a riff of sorts on Jimmy Webb's classic song, "By The Time I Get To Phoenix." In this one, the protagonist lies underneath the bed while his wife and her lover do the deed. This being a country song, I think you can figure out what happens next. Kin to songs like "Hey Joe" and "Miller's Cave," "The Other Shoe" is an example of country music's basic thematic sturdiness. Give us some hurt feelings, a little gunplay, and Old Testament vengeance and we're happy.

One old brown shoe falls in slow motion,
And the bedsprings hover right above your head,
As bedsprings do, when you're beneath them.
Someone else just climbed into your bed.

By the time she thought you'd probably got to Phoenix,
She'd arranged for your shoes to be filled.
Well, you've got your pride, and a blue-steel .45,
And you're waiting for the other shoe to fall.

You'll dig a double grave out in the meadow,
And you'll curse the rain that turns the dirt to mud.
You'll take I-35 south towards Laredo,
Then you'll try to find a doctor who can prescribe an elixir
That'll make everything better, except your late wife and her lover.

By the time she thought you'd probably got to Phoenix,
She'd sealed her fate and gotten herself killed.
Well, you've got your pride, and a blue-steel .45,
And you're waiting for the other shoe to fall.