Category: Pop (Page 183 of 216)

Mrs. Medeiros cleans out her closet

I was in a Dollar Tree yesterday – I don’t know how far and wide the chain spreads, but it’s basically an “Everything’s A Dollar” store – and in the midst of looking for this and that, I stumbled upon some video-tapes. There were almost exclusively Christmas-related…”Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” “Frosty the Snowman,” and the like…but on one shelf, I saw a video bearing this man’s face:

If you don’t recognize him, it’s none too surprising; he’s not a household name, and if it can be said that he ever was, it was a status that he didn’t maintain for more than a few minutes. His name is Glenn Medeiros, and he had precisely two hits of note: “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You” (if you just cringed reflexively, it’s safe to say that, at the very least, your subconscious remembers how awful and schmaltzy the song is) and “She Ain’t Worth It.”

The latter song was a duet with Bobby Brown, and…well, it’s definitely better than “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You,” but the best bits are unquestionably Brown’s.

Okay, but enough about Glenn Medeiros’s hits. What I’m really curious about is, where in the living hell did this VHS tape – a collection of his videos – come from? It was released SIXTEEN YEARS AGO. Did it drop through a time vortex into our era? Or did Glenn’s mom start going through her things and realize, “Oh, dear, I think the sell-through date might be just about gone on these; I wonder if I can get at least a dollar each for them?”

How completely bizarre.

Deep Cuts: Boston, “I Had A Good Time”

Let’s be honest: in 2002, no-one was screaming for a new Boston album. Not even Boston fans, really. I mean, even if you’re a huge fan of the band – and by “band,” let’s admit that we really just mean Tom Scholz and Brad Delp, since they’re the only two who aren’t readily replaceable – the general consensus is that their first album was their best album, so pretty much anything else is just gonna be gravy. Well, that and the fact that album-rock artists from the ’70s can barely give away new studio albums nowadays, so far under the commercial radar are they flying.

And, yet, when you put 2002’s Corporate America into the CD player and hear “I Had A Good Time,” you’re just about tempted to believe that Boston can still play with the big boys.

They couldn’t, of course. The album flopped. But that one song…? The hooks, the harmonies, the guitar solo, the false ending…it’s all fan-freaking-tastic. The only problem was, why in God’s sake would you take a song with a title and lyrics that make it the perfect album closer, then have it open the album?

Anyway, you can hear a taste of the song here. For some reason, the album isn’t available for download on either iTunes or eMusic, but whenever it pops up, at the very least, I recommend snatching up this song post-haste.

Notes from the Orphanage IV

Let’s get straight to it, shall we?

Autodrone: Panic EP (Big Bit of Beauty)
Naming Your Band 101: Do not make “drone” any part of your band name. Other words to avoid include “pain,” “ugly” and “creed.” To be fair, Autodrone’s music does no droning of any kind, but that’s because singer Rachel Luria can’t carry a tune in a bucket, so droning on and on is pretty much impossible for them. The band’s sound is akin to college rock circa 1990, i.e. they wish they were half as good as Throwing Muses. They’re not.

Klaxons: Xan Valleys EP (Modular)
Remember when Flaming Lips released four albums that were supposed to be played at the same time to put everything together? Klaxons decided to do that all on one record. Everyone here seems to be doing his own thing, making the end result about as far removed from flow as you can imagine. This is the kind of music that plays in the Futureheads’ darkest, most twisted dreams. Take that comment any way you like.

LCD Soundsystem: 45:33: Nike + Original Run
The second installment in the Original Run series, this is a significant upgrade over Crystal Method’s mix, which was dreadfully dull. The discs are specifically designed for joggers, so they include a slow build at the front and a cool-down at the end. The groove doesn’t change too drastically, but it is still engaging nonetheless. The one thing they must address, though, is the decision to make the entire album one, long, track. That may be great for running, but it’s not so much fun in the car or the house.

Turn Off the Stars: Turn Off the Stars (Credential Recordings)
Anyone who’s seriously jonesing for a new Coldplay or Doves record should look this one up post-haste. This Ontario quartet has worshiped at the altar of both bands, and while they don’t quite eclipse their idols, it is a more than respectable effort nonetheless.

Joseph Arthur: Nuclear Daydream (Lonely Astronaut)
Granted, Arthur is not the kind of guy who deserves to be orphaned, but really, who does deserve it? His new one is, well, just like the others: occasionally bouncy but mostly gloomy, slightly Neil Young-ish with a faint whiff of Belle & Sebastian (“Enough to Get Away”). “Entertainment Weekly” kisses Arthur’s feet every chance they get, and while he’s a formidable talent, there are better albums out there than this.

Cover songs I’d like to hear: Pet Shop Boys doing “Year of the Cat”

Pet Shop Boys lead singer Neil Tennant always rolled his eyes when he did his first round of interviews after the success of “West End Girls,” and people would compare his voice to that of ’70s soft rock god Al Stewart, but the comparison was not unfounded. Indeed, I would argue that the two have far more in common than they realize. Witness Stewart’s “Running Man,” which sports a Latin beat that PSB would later incorporate into their music on 1996’s Bilingual (which, for the record, was way ahead of the whole Ricky Martin thing, for those of you who remember Ricky Martin).

But that’s beside the point. Both Stewart and Tennant write extremely literate pop songs, and the Pet Shop Boys, if they put their minds to it, could come up with a showstopping arrangement of this song, I have no doubt. Check out this performance by Stewart on “The Old Grey Whistle Test,” and tell me that they couldn’t coax Johnny Marr to pop in for a day and lay down both the Spanish guitar and the killer-but-quick lead guitar solos. Lord knows it would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable than them covering, shudder, Diane Warren, like they did on their last album, the lackluster Fundamental.

A Top 13…? Sure, why not.

In a recent promotion involving the release of the L.E.O. album, Bleu provided folks who purchased the record through Not Lame Records with his top 13 essential albums of all time. The list was posted to an E-mail list I’m on, and, predictably, it spurred everyone to start sending out their own top 13 lists…so here’s mine, and feel free to submit your own as well:

1. The Beatles, Magical Mystery Tour: I know I’m supposed to pick Revolver or Sgt. Pepper, but over the years, I’ve come to realize that any album which contains “I Am the Walrus,” “Penny Lane,” “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Your Mother Should Know,” and “All You Need Is Love” is really the Beatles album that I’ll listen to more often than any other, “Blue Jay Way” be damned.
2. The Smiths, The Queen Is Dead. If only because of “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.” Of course, there are plenty of other reasons to include it, since I love every song, but that one song is ultimately the reason it’s essential for me.
3. Jellyfish, Spilt Milk. So is it true that you’re either a Bellybutton man or a Split Milk man, and that you can’t be both…?
4. The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds. It didn’t hit me like a ton of bricks, as it did others, but when it did hit me, WOW.
5. a-ha, Hunting High and Low. I didn’t even listen to this album until after their time on the US charts had come and gone, but once it did, I wondered why the hell I’d never paid any attention to them before.
6. Pet Shop Boys, Very. It was officially the point where Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe stopped mattering in the States, but it was also when I realized that I rather preferred it that way.


7. R.E.M., Lifes Rich Pageant. Seeing these guys at William and Mary Hall when they were touring behind Document was a formative moment in my appreciation of alternative music, and of all their albums, this remains my favorite.
8. The Merrymakers, No Sleep ‘Til Famous. This was the album that convinced me that there was something in the water in Sweden that gave its residents the ability to write incredibly catchy pop hooks.
9. Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians, Globe of Frogs. I could list any number of Hitchcock albums here, but this is one I’m forever returning to.
10. Squeeze, Frank. A dark horse in the Squeeze discography, to be sure, but when I worked at a record store, my manager said, “You must listen to this album.” I continue to thank her for that to this day.
11. Johnny Cash, Live at Folsom Prison. Because I can still remember listening to it on 8-track while riding in my dad’s Ford pick-up.
12. XTC, Skylarking. Andy Partridge may still grimace at the memory of working with Todd Rundgren, but even he can’t fault the end result.
13. Sex Pistols, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. Because it fucking rocks. Period.

« Older posts Newer posts »