Here’s the truth: So Hot Right Now posts are always hard for me to write. I play those 15 songs obsessively, plucking many of them out of thin air and promptly devouring them over the course of the last week of the month. That’s supposed to quell my wandering attention span, that batch of new songs. I line them up and play them on repeat, I pledge my endless listening devotion to them, for the next month at least. I slide one in next to the other, drag it down, rearrange tracks 7 and 15, then 12 and 3, then think about transitions. What sounds delicious? What bridge between two songs is so luscious and unexpected that it has to be honored? A few months ago Joshua slipped “Flowers in Your Hair” by The Lumineers right behind “Summer Breeze” by the Isley Brothers and that movement from one song to the next plucked an emotional chord. It sounded like the first buttery sunshine filled day of summer or the rosy cheeked heat of a new crush. It was perfect. It was the ideal transition. I wanted every transition on my lists to sound as good.
I am obsessive. There are all kinds of corners and knick knacks in my apartment that get fondly pinged by my passing fingertips several times a day. I often listen to a song more than ten times in a row. And that obsessiveness is sometimes fun, but when it comes to making mixes, it’s easy for it to get exhausting. One of my favorite songs last year was “Closer” by Tegan and Sarah. It’s almost unbearable to listen to now because I listened to it so many times. At this point it sounds like construction or a loud clock—that low level jarring kind of noise that pinches your nerves. I wear out so many great songs, I have to shelve them and come back to them months later, if ever (Seriously, after waiting for the new Tegan and Sara album for months, it’s disappointing to have to skip the excellent kick off that is “Closer” every time I listen to it). So Hot Right Now mixes are lists of songs I’ve worn down to the bone. I post them here, and I run as far away from them as I can.
The past week of this brand new month has been full of big emotions, good and bad. I kept meaning to post my original list, but it seemed like it expired on February 1st. I didn’t want to hear all the stuff I’d listened to last month. I wanted the comfort of songs that I loved, songs I could never get tired of. I wanted Tom Petty and Etta James and Liz Phair. I wanted slightly less familiar songs from albums I play often, songs like “Where I’m Waking” by Slow Club and “Again Today” by The Feelies. I wanted the relief of new songs that I’m still charmed with, like “Young Adult Friction” by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and “Golden Haze” by Wild Nothing. I didn’t want to sort them out because they sounded so perfect and right just where they were, all in a row, where I wanted them to be when I needed to find them.
In case you were curious, and because it was a very good mix, that mix I made and couldn’t listen to for another second, here’s my original So Hot Right Now for February. I hope you enjoy them both—let me know what you’re listening to this month in the comments.
One can’t subsist on a diet of new music alone. Okay, you could, but I don’t recommend it—imagine how many songs and albums you would miss if you firmly planted your playlists in the current year with no exceptions. I love year end wrap up lists about music that came out this year—but what about the scads of other music you listened to?
Here’s page one from my musical scrapbook of 2012: These are the Top 5 songs I listened to in the beginning of the year, the ones that shaped my monthly soundtracks and that I couldn’t stop playing if I tried. For the full lists for each month, click the months/song titles below.
I became really exhausted by insincerity and apathy this year. How embarrassing for me, right? What a gee shucks, fresh off the turnip truck sentiment (…why is it always turnips?). But there it is: I like sincere people who care about things. I want to be more like that, not less. And (oh, the cringe worthy vulnerability here guys, I can hardly bear it) I think I got really in touch with that sentiment when I heard this song.
The Strokes, whose tour bus I once trailed after a show with fellow moonstruck girlfriends (all of us far too innocent and curfew abiding to go full out Pamela De Barres, we simply followed the bus as long as we could and then went home), were my late high school rock icons. They were loud and oddly sexy; I screamed and jumped through their show, finally understanding the squaking, convulsing crushes my middle school friends used to have for every boy band du jour. Almost a decade later, I heard this fragile, bare bones song—so soft and spare, with nothing but Julian Casablanca’s voice and a keyboard. The lyrics are mostly straightforward, sagacious (to a confused, slightly lost 20something) life advice: “10 decisions shape your life, you’ll be aware of 5 about” and “There is a time when we all fail/Some people take it pretty well/Some take it all out on themselves.”
I listened to this 100 times, at least. I liked the weariness, and how different it sounded from The Strokes I knew years ago. I too was feeling weary and changed. I was growing tired of writing borderline mean jokes that don’t mean much. I was tired of pretend opinions and sound bites. I started wondering who I actually want to be and if I’m becoming that. It was earnest and it was deeply uncool; but, most of all, it was a relief, the kind that warrants a million cheesy similes (my favorite is “like a breath of fresh air”).
In Songbook, Nick Hornby says writing about how and where you heard a song is for the birds (my words, his bird-free sentiment), that if you really love a song it doesn’t matter how and where you heard it. I say Nick Hornby is a fool (*gasp*): when a love is new, you tell it’s story, and I fell in love with Etta James last winter. It took two distinct listens to become hooked on this song. The first time: at a smoky bar the size of my closet under the train tracks in Tokyo, where I sat spellbound under a chandelier. The second time: at a shoe store in San Francisco, delirious with the flu, buying very expensive high heels for a business trip I was too sick to go on. Both instances had wildly different levels of glamour and health, but shared one thing: They became moments frozen in my memory because I heard that song and had to hear it again, as soon as possible, as much as I could.
Dusty Springfield makes the word groovy sound seductive. That feat deserves it’s own accolades. “Spooky” is a luscious ridiculously sexy song that is very 60s without being dated, very slow and jazzy without veering into smooth jazz or lounge lizard territory. It’s an odd defiant miracle of a song, refusing to be any of the things it’s supposed to be, sort of like the spooky little boy Dusty is singing to. I love the full stops and snaps, the echo-ey moment at the end, and most of all Dusty Springfield’s light, soulful voice.
In honor of year end wrap up season, one of my favorite TV moments of 2012 was Jane Krakowski playing Dusty Springfield in the live 30 Rock last season.
I missed this song when it had a moment a few years ago. When I heard it this year, the timing was perfect: San Francisco was experiencing a handful of rare, summery days and all I wanted to do was lie around in the park with friends, drink wine, and listen to something cheerful with a fiddle.
I love those songs that get so tied into the weather that it’s impossible to untangle them. It’s brisk and drizzly outside as I write this; Christmas is around the corner and I head back East tomorrow. But as I listen to this song on repeat, I want to throw the windows open, slip into a sundress, invite everyone I adore over for dinner. I have an unquenchable craving for the green capped, seven dollar Vino Verde I swill from April through August.
Honorary Mention: “Day Dreaming” by Aretha Franklin
Love, travel, day dreaming, and Aretha Franklin? All my favorite things, all at once. “Day Dreaming” perfectly represents the swooning, butterflies in your stomach part of love. The theme of sitting around, daydreaming about someone you love who will sweep you off to some exciting elsewhere is charming and matched well by the dreamy flute and electric piano. Why don’t people ever use lines like this in their wedding vows: “I want to be what he wants, when he wants it, whenever he needs it/When he’s lonesome and feelin’ love starved, I’ll be there to feed him/ Lovin’ him a little bit more each day.” How great would wedding ceremonies be if everyone swapped Corinthians for some Aretha Franklin lyrics?
Fun fact: Rumor has it this song is about Dennis Edwards, from The Temptations.
If you’re going to repeat a cluster of lines a couple times over, they better be good. I’ve never taken a songwriting class, but I have to guess that’s a lesson that’s taught on day one. The chorus does the song’s heavy lifting—how often, during a concert, does an artist ask the audience to put down their drinks and chant the third verse? It’s rare. The chorus is what everyone knows, the chorus is what gets trapped in your head, long before the rest of the lyrics land there too.
“Ghost World” by Aimee Mann
Remember the public, coded melodrama that was the early 2000s AIM away message? The clear ancestor of modern Facebook statuses and tweets, away messages were prime real estate for a well placed song lyric, meant to convey the ocean of feelings you were off somewhere glamorously drowning in (when, in fact, you were usually across the room watching TV).
My first year of college, “I’m bailing this town/Or tearing it down” was a not so sly glimpse at the epic partying I was clearly doing, meant to impress…well, everyone. I moved back home as a sophomore and started using the full chorus, following up those loaded two lines with the truthful third “Or probably more like hanging around.” Aimee Mann succinctly sums up a snapshot of adolescence, and not the kind so often portrayed on TV and in movies, where everyone juggles lurid sex lives, wacky adventures, and transcendent angst. It’s real adolescence—the kind where the bulk of it is boredom and waiting, wanting to do something exciting, but probably doing a lot of nothing as you hide behind a carefully invented version of yourself.
“Brilliant Mistake” by Elvis Costello
I almost got a tattoo of this song title, years ago. I’m glad I didn’t; I think whatever haunch or shoulder blade I scribbled an Elvis Costello lyric on would embarrass me now. What if in two years we find out that Elvis Costello is a serial killer, or worse, he takes a cue from Liz Phair and releases some inescapable piece of pop drek? His handiwork would sit right on my skin, forever. This is how I think. This is a keyhole view into my obsessive mind. And for another view, here’s this: Several times a week, I’ll leave my keys at home or rewrite a draft into a worse draft or get garishly heavy-handed with eye liner, and the chorus to this song will run through my head and make me smile: “It was a fine idea at the time/ Now it’s a brilliant mistake.”
“Remember (Walkin’ In The Sand)” by The Shangri-Las
I love this chorus. The entire tempo of the song shifts and it’s stripped down to snapping and atmospheric noises. Even the lead singer’s voice changes from impassioned, loud pleading to a half whispered kittenish drawl. The other girls, who oohed and aahed through the intro, join together for a hushed “Remember!” at the top of every line in the chorus. It’s striking and a little bizarre—the background noises are kind of psychedelic, and when they’re paired with classic Motown girl group snaps and syncopation, it’s magical. I heard this song for the first time recently and the chorus made me drop what I was working on and really tune in.
“Metal Firecracker” by Lucinda Williams
Lucinda Williams is a badass. All grit and wisdom and you took my joy, I want it back—listen to “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” one time and tell me you don’t want to track her down and swig whiskey with her at some salty dive. (And hey, if that ever happens for you, call me?) Even this song about a breakup shows off a bit of her swagger, as her old lover calls her his biker and they cruise around listening to ZZ Top. But the chorus is so quiet and vulnerable, it’s jarring and does a magic trick that good poetry performs: It reveals an experience so universal, you didn’t realize you’d had it a million times. It’s terrifying to reveal yourself to someone, scarier still when that someone leaves with half your heart and all your secrets. Who hasn’t wanted to plead “All I ask is don’t tell anybody that secrets I told you” when a relationship ends? I’ve never said that to someone: ego and fear usually get the better of me. But like I said, Lucinda Williams is a badass. Vulnerability and honesty are just as ballsy as bourbon and bikes.
“I’d Rather Go Blind” Etta James
My friend Max, who’s a chef, once came over after work with a foie gras sandwich on brioche, slathered with homemade duck fat butter. “Luxury!” we exclaimed as we devoured it. I will never eat that sandwich again, which is a fact that makes my arteries sing. When it comes to little luxuries, the ones you can conjure more than once, I think a good cry is the best. The kind of cry where I may not be sad about anything in particular, but I find myself with a chunk of alone time and the opportunity to wail for a bit. It’s better than any massage or bubble bath or any other spa like treatment that may cleanse your skin, but can’t touch the soul cleansing powers of voluntary weeping. A good song can kickstart a crying jag, and “I’d Rather Go Blind” is one of my favorites. Etta James’ voice gives me chills, and the bone rattling sadness of the chorus reduces me to a blubbering mess.
Joshua: I was talking to my friend Jeff King a few weeks ago about this awesome blog and I mentioned that this month we were doing album-based lists. (No doubt you’ve read our first such list.) He mentioned that he has always thought that, as a general rule, track six on any given album has to be good. In his words, it has to be a linchpin to hold the album together, the track that makes sure you listen to the second half of the album. We here at Charm City Jukebox agree, and finding the subject so engaging, decided to write our own track six lists. And look for Jeff’s post on Friday!
JOSHUA’s List:
“Once in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads, on Stop Making Sense
I’m of the belief this version of this song is the best single thing the Talking Heads has ever done, so I may be a little biased when including this into a list of track 6’s. But for serious. I mean, for realsies , when we talk of “game-changing” tracks on an album, this is the definition. It takes a good album and makes it into something truly special. This track nears live performance perfection simply because every member of the band is firing on all twelve cylinders (the Talking Heads obviously have a huge engine.) and manages to mesh in a way most bands could only dream of.
“Superstition” by Stevie Wonder, on Talking Book
I busted out all of my vinyl this week to create my list, as I felt just looking through my iTunes wouldn’t cut it this time. To my surprise and utter delight, this song is track six off of Talking Book, one of my personal favorite Wonder albums. It may be one of his most popular songs, but it’s freaking amazing. The horn lines alone make the whole album worth listening to over and over. Plus, how often do you get a pop song with a clavinet in the starring role?
“Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin, on Physical Graffiti
Ok, so I may have been a little harsh on this song in a previous post. But let’s be honest with ourselves here: The second side of Physical Graffiti might be the best side of a rock album ever pressed. And it’s wrapped up with one of the best rock opuses (opii? opusss? I got no clue.) ever written. It’s a shot across the bow for Zeppelin fans, signaling the apex of Zeppelin’s musical talent….Mostly because this album is followed by the god-awful In Through the Out Door and then John Bonham’s death.
“Born of a Broken Man” by Rage Against the Machine, on Battle of Los Angeles
A change for the album, as it starts with just one guitar with very few effects and no distortion. Then it crashes into the hook, a violently distorted syncopated line laden with string strums and badassness. It’s easily the most introspective song on the album, the message of the song being aided greatly by the effects laid upon the drum sounds, which sound as though they’re being played underwater two towns over. Many people I’ve talked to about this album seem to think this is the weakest song on the album, but I can’t disagree more vehemently. I think maybe it’s disliked because it’s simply tough to listen to. It’s not easy on the ears or the conscience.
“Fuck Her Gently” by Tenacious D, on Tenacious D
I’m so glad this was a track six. When I pulled out my vinyl copy of this album (yes, jackass, I do have a copy of this album on vinyl. It was a wonderfully thoughtful gift from an ex-girlfriend and I play it all the time. Deal with it.) I was delighted to see it in the six-slot because I get to talk about the song I played on guitar probably more often than any other song combined (besides maybe “Tribute”). It’s hilarious and infectious. If you don’t mind profanity, it’s the song for you. Plus, Jack Black has one of the most precise voices in music, so it’s a vocal treat. And, remember fellas, it’s important to ball your lady discreetly when she wants it.
CLAIRE’s List
“Loco de Amor,” by David Byrne, on Rei Momo
Rei Momo is a magical album and like David Byrne himself, it’s aged scary well (Seriously—throw some hair dye and a giant suit at the guy and you’ve got “Stop Making Sense.” And that was 28 years ago.) It’s fun swirling genre-spanning David Bryne madness, and lacks the “attempting esoteric but landing at borderline Lite FM” quality of some of Byrne’s later solo efforts (See “Like Humans Do”). After the first track you’ll know you’re in it for the long haul with this album, and “Loco De Amor” is just more proof, albeit bright happy get-up-and-dance-around-your-office proof.
”Pavlov’s Bell,” by Aimee Mann, on Lost in Space
I’ve learned a really important thing from writing for this blog: I have no idea what any of Aimee Mann’s songs are about. I’ve been listening to her relentlessly for years, bopping my head and hitting replay, muttering her very quotable refrains to myself, relating. And then I started reading her lyrics, which have a Dream Songs level of “here are some images and maybe a theme and a sharp left turn and BAM” quality to them that’s hidden in her charming voice and solid pop predilictions. So here’s a song, I think it’s about drug addiction, or maybe having an affair, but in the end like much of Mann’s work, it’s stuck-in-your-head for days good, so who cares?
“Fu-Gee-La,” by The Fugees, on The Score
Classic Fugees. Tightly packed raps, and Lauryn Hill’s voice drizzled through the refrain like warm honey. If you hit play on this one, expect to spend the next several hours listening to the Fugees. In two days when you’ve done a full circle through the Fugees and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and you’re feeling blue, share a moment with Talib and get “Ms. Hill” stuck in your head. He gets it.
“So It Goes,” by Nick Lowe, on Jesus of Cool
A great song from an underrated classic. When I saw Nick Lowe two years ago, all the hipster girls wore cut off Day Glo shirts that read Pure Pop for Now People, the revised US title for Jesus of Cool. I always preferred the title Jesus of Cool, and not just because it’s the original title of the album, and not in a “I know things, girls in Day Glo shirts, I know Lowe things” way, but just because Pure Pop for Now People reeks of New Wave wordplay. Nothing against New Wave (you all know I’m blasting Flock of Seagulls RIGHT NOW) but I see Nick Lowe as something more. A shining example of what pop music could be and usually isn’t. The Jesus of Cool, perhaps?
“I Just Want to Make Love to You,” by Etta James, on At Last!
I was so excited to find out that this song was a Track 6. At Last! is a fascinating album. It was Etta James’ first album of 33 (Live and studio—throw in compilations and it practically doubles), yet almost all of her most iconic songs are on it: I Just Want to Make Love to You, At Last, Sunday Kind of Love. This is one of my all time favorite songs. From the horns at the beginning, to James’ voice that moves from gruff to sweet and back again, to the straight forward seductiveness of the lyrics—it’s another Etta James gem from the very first Etta James masterpiece.
Etta James has completed the Love and Stuff Month triathalon: She’s on my Top 5 Love Songs (Sunday Kind of Love), Top 5 Songs for the Grown and Sexy (I Just Want to Make Love to You), and Top 5 Breakup Songs (I’d Rather Go Blind). I’ve never been able to shake the image from the chorus here—”I’d rather be blind, boy, than to see you walk away from me.” An achingly, heartbreakingly beautiful song, one that conveys raw, almost to the point of numbness, pain.
Imogen Heap, “Hide and Seek”
For the blank-faced times, the too many drinks alone time, the finding a song to cry to times. Sort of a theme for “Speak for Yourself” (the album this song is from), so if you’re looking for a prolonged spell of crying jags and blind rage, queue up “Headlock” and “Have You Got it In You?”
A Fine Frenzy, “Ashes and Wine”
A Fine Frenzy does a couple things we all have to do after a breakup. Here’s a breakdown:
Feels nothing. Feels end-of-the-world-depressed. Feels suicidal in a “Yeah, that’ll show you way.” Then feels bad about all that and insists that this will be amicable, damnit.
Imagines her ex kissing someone else. Feels alternately ill, guilty about feeling ill because she has no claim on him anymore, sad about the realization that her claim is gone
Wonders relentlessly if somehow they’re going to muddle through this breakup and get back together. Asks that pleading question, albeit in a much more poetic way, “Are we going to get back together? Ever?”
Beck, “Lost Cause”
You’ve given up. You didn’t want to, this isn’t some big confident show of how over it you are, no. But you’re done trying. And it’s all sad and terrible but maybe a little hopeful, because it can be over now. Not over for real, not yet, but there’s a promise that it will be some day. And that’s something.
Joni Mitchell, “Down to You”
An oddly comforting song that, when you’re in the throes of your breakup, reminds you that this too shall pass. This is my all time favorite Joni Mitchell song. I remember driving around listening to this, about a month after a breakup, and those first lines clicked with me immediately: “Everything comes and goes/Marked by lovers and styles of clothes/Things that you held high and told yourself were true/Lost and changing as the days come down to you.” Also the part where she suddenly shrieks “Love is gone” with a chorus is hilarious. I know it’s not supposed to be, but it’s a much needed laugh. Between Joni Mitchell’s zen-like wisdom and so-serious-it’s-funny-choral-moment, this song feels like a huge relief.
Honorary Mentions:
Billie Holiday, “I’ll Be Seeing You”: Nobody does wistful like Billie Holiday.
Martha Wainwright, “Bloody Motherfucking Asshole”: It’s nice to hear a pretty song turn so filthy. Martha Wainwright is angry, is not interested in hiding it, is about to spend a full minute repeating “You bloody motherfucking asshole.”
Lauryn Hill, “Ex Factor”: If you’ve ever been through a breakup without “There for me there for me, said you’d be there for me/Cry for me cry for me, you said you’d die for me” running through your head at some point, you apparently missed out on the very crucial experience of listening to “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill” on repeat for two years. Fix that.
Joshua’s List:
“Sad Songs and Waltzes” by Cake
A wonderful cover of the creator of nasty breakup songs, Willie Nelson. He can’t possibly begin to forgive his ex. She done him wrong. And he ain’t got no one to tell it to but his guitar and the tech recording his song. I hope whoever Nelson wrote the song for (and John McCrea sang the song for) actually heard the song. But it’s almost better if she didn’t, right?
“Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” by Jeff Buckley
I’m not sure if this is actually a breakup song or not, I’ve just always used it as one. Maybe it’s the accordion. Maybe it’s the wide open D-chord transitioning to the horrible E-minor. Maybe it’s Buckley’s naturally wilting, wistful voice. You can’t help but wish…no, know, that she should’ve come back to him. He knows exactly what he’s done wrong. He’s a fucking idiot. Can’t he make a mistake? Unfortunately, he knows the answer, and it’s not good.
“Accidentally Like A Martyr” by Warren Zevon
This was a serious candidate for the breakup sex entry for me for a while. The chorus describes exactly that: “Mad love, shadow love, random love, and abandoned love.” Can you think of a better description for sex you shouldn’t be having? But it’s much better describing that period after you finally break off all contact with your ex and then force yourself to remember over and over again all the times you had passionate, uninhibited sex with her/him. It’s torturous, and Warren Zevon knows exactly what you’re going through.
“No Children” by The Mountain Goats
This song isn’t actually written from the perspective of a couple already broken up; rather, a couple that should be ending but can’t bring themselves to kill it. Or each other. Or themselves. I love the line: “And I hope when you think of me years down the line, you can’t find one good thing to say.” I’ve oft felt like this: I know I’ve never done anything to truly hurt someone, especially someone I’ve loved, but there’s a certain romantic charm in being hated in perpetuity by someone who once loved you. Maybe that’s insanity, but I have a feeling I inspire that kind of long-standing revulsion with my exes, and it’s rather comforting.
“So Very Hard To Go” by Tower of Power
After that, I had to end this entry on a positive note. And what better a song than this to express positivity of a breakup? The singer is, unfortunately, deeply in love with the person he’s singing it to, but he’s realized that it’s better for her in the long run if they weren’t together anymore. He can’t bear the thought of his girl being unhappy, especially if it’s because of him. He must make the ultimate sacrifice to step aside, but, in the end, he’s ok with it. It’s hard now, and it’ll get better, but goddamn, if this shit doesn’t suck. I one day hope to be that mature to realize when I should do what he’s doing…Cuz I’ve never done it before.
Honorable Mentions:
“Break Your Heart” by Barenaked Ladies: Ok, this is only on here because I’ve never been on this side of a breakup. Move along.
“Where Did Our Love Go” by The Supremes: A shuffle written about dying love. A straight up amazing classic.
“For No One” by The Beatles: Uh…damn, Paul. Damn. This is some fucked up shizz right here. And I’ve been there.
Claire: Have you ever heard the term “grown and sexy”? It’s a radio thing, and it usually shows up before a solid block of smooth, slow jams, timed somewhere south of 10:00pm. These are the songs for when love songs, alternative love songs, and terrible love songs just won’t do. Here are our Top 5 songs for the grown and sexy set. They range from classic to modern, sultry to sweet, and sometimes downright wholesome (I’m looking at you Bootsy Collins). So sit back, relax, enjoy, and you’re welcome.
CLAIRE’s List
“Say Yes,” Floetry
A slow, sultry number featuring two of hip hop’s unsung vocal superstars. Assertive without being aggressive, sexual without being vulgar, vivid without being explicit. Once you turn this song on, it will magically build you a fireplace and set out a bearskin rug. It’s amazing. Try it.
“I’d Rather Be With You,” Bootsy Collins
Funky, slow, trademark Bootsy. Even though the beat has a boudoir feel to it, the lyrics are downright wholesome. If this song clicks with you, check out “Munchies for Your Love,” another sweet yet sexy number by Bootsy.
“Finest Lovin Man in Town,” Bonnie Raitt
Ms. Raitt brings the raunch, and that warm honey voice that waivers between sweet and soulful. Bluesy, direct, and studded with relationship wisdom and harmonica riffs. This is very much an early evening, getting ready to get the night started song.
“Loving Cup,” The Rolling Stones
I like the pace of this song, the way it builds and picks up half way through. It’s engaging, earnest in a very particular way (a funny blend of assertiveness and pleading that only a musician trying to get laid could pull off). I’ll get hate mail from my generation for this, but I’ll say it: Jagger’s voice is sexy. Recent songs that celebrate guys who look like Jagger, or dance like Jagger, confuse me. I prefer him strictly in musical form, no gangly dance steps or trout mouthed pursing allowed.
“I Just Want to Make Love to You,” Etta James
The horns in the first few notes, and the way Etta hits that first note, then goes soft and breathey a few lines later? Magic. A song that says “Honey, don’t even go to work. Forget the laundry. Your priorities are limited to one room and one room only, k?” Which is expressed best when Etta wails “Ooh all I want to do all I want to do is cook your bread/Just to make sure you’re well fed.” She doesn’t have time to bake it, but damnit, she’ll cook it…just get back in that bedroom.
Honorable Mentions
“I’m His Girl,” Friends: Sultry with feminist overtones.Respectful relationship advice meets Brooklyn funk.
“Lets Get It On,” Marvin Gaye: Too on the nose, but duh.
“Satisfaction,” John Legend: A sexy, angry song about a relationship falling apart. Legend has created a theme song for post-fight or post-break-up sex.
JOSHUA’s List:
“Love and Happiness” by Al Green
Oh, man. The way this song starts is enough to put anyone in the mood. Sparse guitar and Al Green in falsetto and THEN THE ORGAN KICKS IN? Jesus. If you aren’t wet/hard after the organ kicks in, it’s not happening with the person you’re with. Al Green is the perfect way to get anyone in the mood. It’s not quite baby-making music, but it’s certainly great getting-in-the-mood music.
“Pusherman” by Curtis Mayfield
Things are getting busier here, both musically and sexually. Maybe I’ve just spent too much time around music and musicians, but roto-toms are a sure way to get anyone aroused. It’s like the anti-steel drum, the buzz killer 60 years running. Also, falsetto seems to be a running theme. What is it about black men singing in falsetto that’s wildly arousing? It really, really doesn’t work the other way around. Just listen to Dave Matthews for two minutes and tell me why.
“Maybe Your Baby” by Stevie Wonder
I had wanted to save this until the last song, but like everything else, good things don’t last. 10 minutes in heaven is better than 9 minutes in heaven. But this track is dirty groove, straight nasty. And it doesn’t help that he’s singing about a girl cheating on him. It’s dirty wrong sexual acts set to a crazy groove that makes you just want to look at your partner and give it to him/her in the way you always wanted to but thought just wasn’t cool but he/she always wanted but didn’t know how to broach the subject. Do’s: put on when you’re both drunk and rather uninhibited or when you know your partner’s a freak and want to awake that side. Don’ts: funeral sex.
“Bonita Applebum” by A Tribe Called Quest
We’ve hit the winding down section here. You’ve had great fun tonight. Light up a cigarette and enjoy the afterglow.
“Use Me” by Bill Withers
You may be asking yourself why this is here. It’s very upbeat and obviously you’ve gotten through the sexual encounter (the average time for sexual intercourse is, unfortunately, 2-5 minutes). But maybe you’ve smoked that cigarette and you look over at your partner and decide it’s time for round two. What better way to lead back into boning than Bill Withers cranking out the jams? He does it. And you’re about to do it again.
Honorable Mentions:
“Spooky” by Dusty Springfield: A great way to lead into sex. You drop the needle on this track and look over at your partner and both of you will know what’s going on.
“Chameleon” by Herbie Hancock: Oof. Not for the faint of heart. Or ab muscle. This song is 15+ minutes and contains multiple tempo changes. It’s doable. But you just gotta be in it for the long haul and be down with funk-jazz fusion. Trust me, it doesn’t work otherwise.
“Criminal” by Fiona Apple: Oh, you’re a dirty motherfucker. Congrats. This track is perfect for you. It has a beat you can get down to and it conjures up the image of an 18 year old Fiona Apple writhing on the floor. Great for angry breakup sex.
Claire: Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and the Charm City Jukebox is here (as always) to fulfill all of your musical needs. This month we’re covering music to fall in love to and with, as well as breakups, makeups, hookups, the movie “Up”…..the list goes on. Welcome to Week One: Top 5 Love Songs. Joshua and I have pulled together a few of our favorite musical snapshots of love, old and new. Sit back, enjoy, and leave your top love songs in the comments (Hey, we need some new songs sometimes too, right?)
CLAIRE’S List:
Taj Mahal, “Lovin’ In My Baby’s Eyes”:
Sweet and simple, the kind of “I just want to be with you and make you happy” music that you listen to as your falling in love, and that means a bit more as you keep going. Was anyone else kinda pissed when Jenna Bush used this as her wedding song? I feel like she tarnished it’s weddingy-goodness for the rest of us.
Cake, “I Want to Love You Madly”
Joshua and I have an unofficial rule that several weeks without a Cake mention on this blog just won’t stand. So here’s an upbeat Cake number for all of your romancing needs. A good song to play as you get ready for a date with that special someone, a good roll down the windows and blast it track for when you’re feeling in love and really psyched about it, a good snapshot of head over heels love.
Etta James, “Sunday Kind of Love”:
If there was a record of Etta James singing the phone book, I would lie around in a dreamy haze and spin it on repeat. Of Etta’s many love song classics, “Sunday Kind of Love” is my favorite: Her voice has that rosey falling-in-love tone, like she’s fallen in love with the idea of that love she’s “dreaming and scheming” about all week. I think it’s what everyone is looking for: Someone so solid and real that he/she chases the Sunday gloom away, someone so warm and wonderful that they’re worth falling over the top in love with.
Otis Redding, “That’s How Strong My Love Is”
A song for when you’ve been through life together. And not friends and dinners, falling into bed and getting a little older, arguing and trying. Real, messy, pull-you-apart, push-you-together life. And not just once, but again and once more, and more after that. You earn this song.
Dan Wilson, “Easy Silence”
Originally made popular by the Dixie Chicks, which is, I must admit, a better version. But I have a soft spot for the Dan Wilson version because it’s part of a falling-in-love soundtrack for me from my senior year of college, when I started dating my boyfriend. I love Dan Wilson’s voice (Wilson is from Semisonic who, much like Shawn Colvin last week, is a 90′s throwback who deserves some dusting off. Semisonic is awesome. Go listen to “Singing to Me in My Sleep.” Or “Secret Smile.”), and I love the idea of love as an oasis from the craziness of life. That chorus always gets me, when he sings “And the way you keep the world at bay for me.”
Honorable Mentions:
Beach Boys, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”: I’ve listened to this song a million times, but my favorite was driving with the top down along Big Sur to Monterey. We blasted this song, the sun beating down on our slowly burning faces, and I was insanely in love: with my boyfriend, with California, with the whole world. If you ever do that drive, I promise you, all those heart-stopping views are nothing without the Beach Boys.
Richard and Linda Thompson, “Dimming of the Day”: In the world of this song, Richard and Linda Thompson are meant for each other. Their voices blend together perfectly, and how often do you hear a married couple celebrate how much they still need and love each other daily? In the world of..well, the world, Richard and Linda Thompson went through a hilarious we-might-kill-each-other style divorce, that played out as they were touring with this album.
Citizen Cope, “Sideways”: A “Life isn’t easy, neither is love, but we’re in it for the long haul” song. Cope’s vocals are haunting, and the spare, vocals-focused arrangement has a quiet loveliness.
JOSHUA’s List:
Barenaked Ladies – Light Up My Room
I love this song so much for so many reasons: The simplicity of the guitar riff, the wonderfully endearing lyrics, and the overall feeling of happiness it just exudes on so many levels. It’s a wonderful snapshot of a couple who are utterly and completely in love with each other. They’re at the point where they can’t fathom being without one another. Not because it hurts to be away from each other; rather, they simply cannot process what it would mean to not be in love with each other. It’s a level of happiness that rare to find in relationships. Or anywhere.
Amy Winehouse – Valerie
Amy Winehouse’s sultry voice leaves nothing to the imagination in this song. The love the speaker has for the subject of the song is lustful and downright dirty. She knows this relationship she has with Valerie is wrong but she wants it – and Valerie – that much more, and specifically because it is that kind hot-nasty we all want but don’t often let ourselves have. She’s given in to abject desire and she’s fine with that.
Otis Redding – Cigarettes and Coffee
An altogether more chaste song than the last…but, like the horn line, is persistently boiling and bubbling under the surface. He begs the subject of the song (unnamed, of course, like he’s singing to every member of the audience or everyone who ever listens to the song) to spend the rest of their lives together, for the simple reason they make each other happy. The seedy part is that this seems to take to place over late night discussions…nothing chaste happens after 3 am. Especially not with Otis Redding’s voice begging you to just take that one more step…with him.
Taj Mahal – Corinna
An easy, easy song. He barely has to reach for the imagery here. He knows he loves this woman and he doesn’t know why anyone wouldn’t. She’s the best woman in the universe and he’s the lucky SOB who happened to get her. He has no idea why she would fall for him but he can’t let her slip through his fingers and this song is one step in that direction – I’d like to hope he wrote this for an actual person and then sang it to her. If someone wrote this song for you, wouldn’t you be a puddle in their arms? Or maybe a puddle in other places?
Paul Simon – Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes
This is my all-time favorite love song because, like “Light Up My Room,” it’s a snapshot. But unlike Barenaked Ladies’ decidedly Polaroid snap, this is a high-quality digital SLR shot in 1080p. The shot is of two people utterly in love and blissfully unaware of their surroundings. They’re in love to the point the rest of the world has completely fallen away. And Paul Simon’s lyrical phrasing and lilting chorus only heightens this feeling of easy, no-worries love. The best line: “She said, ‘Honey, take me dancing’ but they ending up sleeping in a doorway by the bodegas and the lights on Upper Broadway, wearing diamonds in the soles of their shoes.” I’m not sure if there is a better way to stop lovers in their tracks and catch them at their most intimate and then put it down in song. I don’t think I’ve even experienced the kind of carefree love the subjects of this song have. Maybe someday I will. One can only hope, right?
Honorable Mentions:
John Legend – Ordinary People: This song got bumped from my main list because those songs were “pure” love songs, or songs that elicit happy feelings about love. This song is much more real. These people love each other but they got shit going on. Deal with it.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Maps: Certainly off the beaten path of regular love songs, “Maps” is beautiful and gut-wrenching at the same time, courtesy of Karen O’s superb vocals. They don’t love you like she loves you.
The Decemberists – The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned): Another tragic love song by the Decemberists. I’ll spare you the recap of the story of the concept album it’s on, but safe to say these lovers have gone through hell to be together. Now that they are, they face even more hell to stay together. Instead, they decide to marry by the banks of a river, then to let the river consecrate their marriage. You read that right. They drown themselves to be together forever. It sounds awful here, but listen to the whole album and this song will have you in tears.
