Blake Mason

Leo M. and Tristan

The Joker

Fat Boy Slim

Becca (the sex blogger formerly known as Avah) requested "The Joker" by the Steve Miller Band. In honor of her own updated identity—and her appreciation of all things cute—how’s this for a "near"-quest, Meowrice?

I Shot Myself

Lilie and Chica

Penny on the Train Track

Ben Kweller

Here’s another number from the Cody playlist. I like to whistle the tune. The video wins my vote for Best Use of an Exercise Room In a Video Not Featuring Ok Go.

Hogtied

Madison Young

Steven

Voxtrot

Cody sent this tune my way and thus introduced me to a fine band. After enjoying this video of cute boys in the studio and on the road, I looked at their tour schedule and discovered that these cute boys are always in the studio and on the road.

They need a home cooked meal. Fried chicken, fellows?

Abby Winters

Narida

The Only One I Know

The Charlatans

When first released, this four minute earwig was in constant rotation on my turntable. I would dance and twirl and wish I smoked pot.

Fratmen

Seb

Love Me Like You

The Magic Numbers

Cody asked how I heard of the Magic Numbers. I first recall this song from about three years ago. It works as brilliant pop, but also, it had a sweet bitterness, as if we could all sing along to shared despair, perhaps even, given the backing vocals, despair to which we had contributed.

It resonates for me. I go about thinking I should only say nice things. Be nice, say only say nice things. But then, there it is, so nicely said . . .

All those years gone by, I only want to find a way to make it hard for you

Speaking of magic numbers, I still get verklempt about the man, the woman and the little baby they had.



Schoolhouse Rock

Training of O

Madison Young

Bastards of the Young

The Replacements

The finest example of a we’re-not-making-a-video video is the Replacement’s “Bastards of the Young.” The needle drops on vinyl, the speaker trembles and music plays. Nothing else happens.

The camera pulls back, which, in retrospect, strikes me as gratuitous action.

This video reflects the anxiety faced by good bands in the early days of MTV. The deadliest claim against a band was the assertion that it had “sold out.” No band was really safe from this kiss of death. Even the Clash was said to have sold out when “Rock the Casbah” had a danceable beat. Yes, rockers, if you could dance, then the Clash was shilling for the man.

The Replacements were particularly vulnerable to the possibility of selling out. They were the darlings of critics who saw them as “saving” rock and roll. This made them the kind of band that you wanted to be successful, but not too successful—you wanted them to be your friends’ favorite band, but you didn’t want to hear their tunes in a car commercial.

For a while, good bands could keep their distance from MTV. The channel was mostly geared to music for kids, like David Lee Roth, or one-hit haircut bands, like Flock of Seagulls. But that changed when Bruce Springsteen released a video for “Dancing in the Dark.” Were bands supposed to imagine they had more integrity than the Boss?

The Replacements broke the ice by creating a video about nothing. Perfect.

They would go on to preserve earnestness with black-and-white moodiness. Color was too commercial.

Sapphic Erotica

Sapphic Erotica

Velouria

Pixies

Bianca requested “Velouria” by the Pixies. I’m more than happy to spin this number for that cute number. As the band bounds down the rocks in this we’re-not-making-a-video video, I have time to tell the story of how I first came to hear the Pixies.

Fair warning: at the end of this story, you are going to think I must be very old indeed.

Some friends of mine from back home were booked to play in New York at CBGB’s. This was a huge event within my circle of friends—one of our bands was making it! At the time, I lived in Washington, DC. My friends drove their van to my tiny place. We stayed up until the wee hours drinking beer and listening to T Rex, and then they camped on my floor. The next day, we all drove up to Manhattan. I was on board as a roadie.

My friends kicked ass. After the show, we drank free beer from a cooler, sitting on old car seats in the tiny, graffiti-strewn closet that passed for “back stage.” A few other musicians came by to drop a few kind words and collect a few warm beers.

We went back to watch the next bands. We knew another band, and cheered them on.

Then came this band from Boston we had never heard. Fuck, were they amazing. Loud as shit, smart, fun, melodic and holy cow, a cute girl on bass. The lead guitarist was damned hot, too. We went back stage afterwards and drank their warm beer. The Pixies rocked and they were perfectly nice. We all went outside to get some air.

Parked outside was a tour bus whose destination sign read “Nowhere.” A few long-haired guys stumbled from the Gallery next door. We realized they were the band that had played an acoustic set at the adjacent venue that night.

The guys went to the bus and stopped at the door. A photographer came out and ushered forward some girls with permed blond hair, teased high. Each guy took a girl under his arm. One of guys was wearing a top hat. He swigged from a bottle of Jack Daniels as the photographer snapped.

We watched, laughing at the rock n’ roll charade these fellows put forward.

“Fucking poseurs,” Black Francis said as the band pushed one another onto the bus. We ventured over to the Gallery to look at the flyer for that night.

“Awesome band name, dudes,” I mocked.

Who the fuck calls a band "Guns N’ Roses?"

Abby Winters

Limo Girls

Worst That Could Happen

Brooklyn Bridge

Signed D.C. tells me that this song reminds her of my blog. Could it be the dickies?

I'm glad to see the Brooklyn Bridge on her list of New York rock landmarks. And if the keyboard player isn't the model for Josie (of the Pussy Cats), I'll eat my sideburns.

Only Cuties

Only Cuties

Business Time

Flight of the Conchords

Now playing requests; this one from Madeline. Now, where are my business socks?

Training of O

Jade Marxxx

I Am A Scientist

Guided By Voices

Robert Pollard may be best known as a prolific songwriter, but he'll always hold a place in my heart as a dance instructor.

Sex and Submission

Sex and Submission

Love Hurts

Emmylou Harris and Elvis Costello

Madeline and I were walking in the park when we overheard Emmylou Harris and Elvis Costello singing “Love Hurts.” We sat and listened.

Whenever we part, we wind up singing this song. Madeline does a very fine impersonation of Emmylou.

Also for your viewing pleasure, here's the version that was on the radio when I was first hearing Elvis and Emmylou.



Nazareth

Abby Winters

Deborah

Big Fish

Jesca Hoop

Meg sent me this tune, so I looked into Jesca Hoop and found her onstage with the Ditty Bops at YouTube. I conjured Tom Waits and pondered the new kids who adore the Boswell Sisters and that's all I need.

Lillie and Madeline dig the kids in the video.

I Shot Myself

Fionnula

True Faith

New Order

No matter where we were at Tracks, within two beats of the opening moments of this song, Bridget would find me on the dance floor and we would slap each another silly.

"I can't tell you where we're going," I'd say, shaking my shoulder-length hair in her face.

She would bounce away, toss her pink streaks and reply, "I guess there's just no way of knowing."

Training of O

Julie Night

This is a Song

The Magic Numbers

In Focus Girls

In Focus Girls

What Do I Get?

The Buzzcocks

There are no doubt many Buzzcocks fans in New York City. For all I know, there are a fair number of people who host orgies.

But I’ll wager I’m the only host who plays the Buzzcocks at an orgy.

Blake Mason

Leo M. and Mark W.

Could You Be The One?

Hüsker Dü

Bob Mould is gay. So is Grant Hart. I don’t know about Greg Norton.

When I first learned this, I thought, “Huh—so everyone in Hüsker Dü is gay except maybe the guy with the gay moustache.”

Bob Mould shook up my innate presumption of heterosexuality. I mean, if he was gay, then I supposed anyone might be.

One night, I saw Bob drinking at a bar. He was alone and sat with his elbows on the bar, huddled over his drink, minding his own. I tried not to stare.

At the time, I was young and pretty. What if he noticed me? Would he buy me a drink? Would he take me some place? Would I have sex with Bob Mould?

I would never have made a move to speak to him.