Hold Me Close, I'm Tired of Dancin'

If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing (well one of the first things) that I'd like to do is to stop Elton John from recording anything after 1977 (with a few exceptions).

I adore early Elton. He made great music. But through the years, I realized that I couldn't really understand him. It certainly didn't stop me from singing along, though...just check out my interpretation of "Tiny Dancer":

Hold me close, I'm tired of dancin'
Count the head lice on the hideaway
Lady Darlin, she's so willin
You had a busy day today...

Well, I got one line right.

Now I know I'm not the only one who loves Elton songs but has no idea what he's actually saying. Click here for misheard Elton lyrics from all over his catalogs. There are dozens of entries for "Tiny Dancer" alone.

In case you don't feel old...

Here's a partial list of some songs that are celebrating landmark birthdays this year.

Pet Shop Boys' "West End Girls" turns 20.
Blondie's "Rapture" turns 25.
Hall and Oates' "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)" turns 25.
Elton John and Kiki Dee's "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart" is 30 years old.
The Beatles' "Yellow Submarine" turns the big 4-0.
And REM's "Losing My Religion" is 15 years old.
Oh, and Wham!'s "Careless Whisper?" It could legally drink this year.

If Starbucks Loved Me Enough to Care What I Listened To...

I used to cringe at those Starbucks CD compilations in which artists made a "mix CD" of their favorites. I mean, did I really care what Sheryl Crow or Norah Jones listened to? I still don't.

But then Joni and Elvis Costello each did one, and, being the fickle thing that I am, I suddenly decided it was a cool idea. So if I ever become famous enough to have one of these compilations done with my face on it, here's what I'd force Starbucks employees and customers to listen to (at least until someone else put out a compilation):


I'd Have You Anytime—George Harrison (Because it's beautiful, opens up All Things Must Pass, and because it was written by Dylan).
I Saw An Angel Die—Bobbie Gentry (Her Ode to Billie Joe album is astounding. About as sexy as a female vocalist gets).
Black Cow—Steely Dan (self-evident--see Aja blog, below. Drink your venti half-caf sugar-free gingerbread latte with no whip and get outta here).
Requiem Pour Un Con—Serge Gainsbourg (Serge is pictured above. Because it's so goddamned cool, is in French, is literally monotone, and sounds new, even though it's 40 years old).
Cello Song—Nick Drake (Because he's amazing).
The Bells—Laura Nyro with Labelle (Because it's the most soulful thing I've ever heard. And because God lives somewhere in that bridge).
You're With Stupid Now—Aimee Mann (Because it sums up everything I like about Aimee Mann).
Time The Avenger—The Pretenders (Because it sums up everything I like about Chrissie Hynde).
Sticks and Stones—The Divine Comedy (Because it's orchestral, catchy, British and twee).
Today—Jefferson Airplane (Because everybody needs Surrealistic Pillow).
The Boy With The Arab Strap—Belle & Sebastian (Because I love the bassline...and, oh yeah, it's orchestral, catchy and twee).
There Are Worse Things I Could Do—Alison Moyet (Because it's my favorite song from Grease...and Alison Moyet is one of my favorite singers).
Bigmouth Strikes Again—The Smiths (Because The Queen is Dead is literally a work of art).
Revelator—Gillian Welch (Because it's my favorite song of the last five years).
On the Road to Findout—Cat Stevens (Because it's a lifelong favorite. I remember learning to read while reading the lyrics).
Judgement of the Moon and Stars (Ludwig's Tune)--Joni Mitchell (Because a certain passage from this song will be etched on my memorial stone).
See A Little Light—Bob Mould (Because, well, "listen--there's music in the air.")
Walkin' My Baby Back Home—Oscar Peterson & Stéphane Grappelli (Because I love jazz fiddle).
If It's Magic—Stevie Wonder (Because it's the most effective use of a harp I've ever heard).
Listening Wind—Talking Heads (Because it's the delicious kind of weird that only the Talking Heads and Eno could conjure up).

So...do you think they'd bite? Maybe they'd have to make it a two-disc set.

As Close to a Smiths Reunion as We're Gonna Get

Johnny Marr and Andy Rourke, guitarist and bassist, respectively, of the Smiths, are set to take the stage together for a charity gig in Manchester, England, later this month (read the BBC's report here). Rourke is putting the benefit together, which will also feature New Order.

Rourke and Marr have not performed publicly together since the Smiths broke up in 1987. Rumours that Morrissey and drummer Mike Joyce may be joining the two--culminating with the rapture--are unsubstantiated. The Beeb reports: "Websites dedicated to the band have been buzzing with speculation that Morrissey would also appear at the gig, but the rumour was denied by concert organisers.

"A spokeswoman said: "As far as I know, it's just going to be Andy and Johnny, but what conversations have gone on other than that I don't know."

More Self-Promotion

I've just updated my website to feature the February show, as well as to add a photos page.

The Tears Come Fast and Furious

In my quest to have a well-nigh complete collection of 1980s pop and alternative music, this particular gem eluded me for years, I'm embarrassed to admit.

You'll remember that Paul Weller won one of my anti-Grammys for his 2005 solo album As Is Now. Well, back in the late 70s and early 80s, Weller was chief songwriter and lead singer of the seminal British band The Jam.

"A Town Called Malice" from 1982 is just one of the Jam's signature songs...and it's perhaps one of the most joyous-sounding records of the decade. It washed over Americans, its lyrics so very British and such a vivid snapshot of life in Thatcher's UK.

Like a lot of folks, I'd wager, I discovered how great this tune was after a scene in the nearly-perfect film Billy Elliott. "I need this," I immediately told myself, and went on a mad search to find it. If you have any interest at all in 80s British pop, you need to acquaint (or re-acquaint) yourself with "A Town Called Malice."

The lyrics are a little hard to decipher...I've pasted them below. They're fairly dire, and the fact they're set against such "get up and dance" music makes them even more profound, I think.

A Town Called Malice

Better stop dreaming of the quiet life - cos it's the one we'll never know
And quit running for that runaway bus - cos those rosey days are few
And - stop apologising for the things you've never done,
Cos time is short and life is cruel - but it's up to us to change
This town called malice.

Rows and rows of disused milk floats stand dying in the dairy yard
And a hundred lonely housewives clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts
Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry
It's enough to make you stop believing when tears come fast and furious
In a town called malice.

Struggle after struggle - year after year
The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice
I'm almost stone cold dead
In a town called malice.

A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef
gets dashed against the Co-op
To either cut down on beer or the kids' new gear
It's a big decision in a town called malice.

The ghost of a steam train - echoes down my track
It's at the moment bound for nowhere
just going round and round
Playground kids and creaking swings
lost laughter in the breeze
I could go on for hours and I probably will
but I'd sooner put some joy back
In this town called malice.