Music Downloads of the Week
The Coral: "In the Morning"
I don't know how long it will take you, but I listened to this instantly catchy little number at least a half-dozen times before I actually started concentrating on the lyrics, which paint a somewhat grimmer picture than the jaunty music suggests. But I have to love any pop song that has the balls to lure you in with a guilt-inducing hook only to kick you in the stomach after you've become friends. If only Mariah Carey could do this as well.
Eugene McDaniels: "Jagger the Dagger"
An acid jazz reissue from 1971 that offers a scathing rebuke to Mick and the Boys (but mostly Mick) for their willingness to keep up the facade of rockin' out whilst members of their audience are being stabbed to death. For its part, this song is at least as disturbing as "Gimme Shelter" in the coolness of its lyrical delivery as the saxophone bleeds to death in the background.
Suba: "Sereia (Mermaid)"
This is Brazilian electronica. If you don't know what that is precisely, well, neither do I, really. Just trust me on this one.
Keith Anderson: "Podunk"
I don't know if this constitutes an endorsement, but this is just the sort of thing my parents would've had on the stereo 25 years ago at 2:00 in the morning as they spilled margarita mix on the carpet, tripped over the Lazy Susan while trying to dance with their friends, or, alternatively, beat the living shit out of one another while I tried to find more space in my ear canal into which to stuff my pillow. Removed from this context, the song is one of the better examples of the pure country-pop corn that people like Shania Twain are always trying to get on the radio. Best served while intoxicated.
Bomb the Bass with Sinead O'Connor: "Empire"
It's sometimes easy to forget that Sinead, for all her tiresome political ranting, has an absolutely gorgeous voice. In a song like this, where her voice is not necessarily the featured attraction, we are given the opportunity to be surprised by it once again ("Is that her?") while the beat erodes our conscious mind into something that resembles a shredded photograph of religious iconography, reflecting random dapples of light, but signifying nothing.
Eddie Murphy: "Boogie in Your Butt"
You probably haven't heard this anywhere in the last 20 years, and there's no very compelling reason why anyone should have to hear it again. There is some ironic fun to be had in hearing the famously homophobic comedian sing about the joy of placing "a little tiny man in your butt," but I can't make any persuasive argument that there's anything here for you other than the sophomoric pleasure of a song that lists objects to put into your butt to a relentlessly hokey disco beat. You must be outcho mind.
I don't know how long it will take you, but I listened to this instantly catchy little number at least a half-dozen times before I actually started concentrating on the lyrics, which paint a somewhat grimmer picture than the jaunty music suggests. But I have to love any pop song that has the balls to lure you in with a guilt-inducing hook only to kick you in the stomach after you've become friends. If only Mariah Carey could do this as well.
Eugene McDaniels: "Jagger the Dagger"
An acid jazz reissue from 1971 that offers a scathing rebuke to Mick and the Boys (but mostly Mick) for their willingness to keep up the facade of rockin' out whilst members of their audience are being stabbed to death. For its part, this song is at least as disturbing as "Gimme Shelter" in the coolness of its lyrical delivery as the saxophone bleeds to death in the background.
Suba: "Sereia (Mermaid)"
This is Brazilian electronica. If you don't know what that is precisely, well, neither do I, really. Just trust me on this one.
Keith Anderson: "Podunk"
I don't know if this constitutes an endorsement, but this is just the sort of thing my parents would've had on the stereo 25 years ago at 2:00 in the morning as they spilled margarita mix on the carpet, tripped over the Lazy Susan while trying to dance with their friends, or, alternatively, beat the living shit out of one another while I tried to find more space in my ear canal into which to stuff my pillow. Removed from this context, the song is one of the better examples of the pure country-pop corn that people like Shania Twain are always trying to get on the radio. Best served while intoxicated.
Bomb the Bass with Sinead O'Connor: "Empire"
It's sometimes easy to forget that Sinead, for all her tiresome political ranting, has an absolutely gorgeous voice. In a song like this, where her voice is not necessarily the featured attraction, we are given the opportunity to be surprised by it once again ("Is that her?") while the beat erodes our conscious mind into something that resembles a shredded photograph of religious iconography, reflecting random dapples of light, but signifying nothing.
Eddie Murphy: "Boogie in Your Butt"
You probably haven't heard this anywhere in the last 20 years, and there's no very compelling reason why anyone should have to hear it again. There is some ironic fun to be had in hearing the famously homophobic comedian sing about the joy of placing "a little tiny man in your butt," but I can't make any persuasive argument that there's anything here for you other than the sophomoric pleasure of a song that lists objects to put into your butt to a relentlessly hokey disco beat. You must be outcho mind.
posted by Chazzbot at 11:24 PM
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