Music Picks of the Week

Hello. Yeah, it's been awhile. I'm not sure why; I guess I really just wanted to talk to you. I was thinking--maybe later on?--we could get together for a while. It's been such a long time, and I really do miss your--ah, fuck it.

Damian Marley: "Welcome to Jamrock"
Reggae is one of those genres whose songs I enjoy but have a hard time distinguishing from one another. It seems like once the era of Wailer and Marley passed, reggae became content with endless dancehall loops of the same tracks with new vocal content (not unlike the stream of hip-hop mixtapes coming out of Brooklyn on a daily basis). Perversely enough, Damian is the last son of the Bobster himself, but if this is the end of the line as far as authentic reggae-spawn goes, I'm sort of sad to see it come, even if the last reggae album I actually paid money for was a replacement copy of Bob's Legend. This song is the sound of the 21st century being sucked into a black hole (you can actually hear this on the track) while the citizens of Jamaica let down their dreads, pop a cold rum, and watch the last sunset. Out on the streets, they call it murder.

Lil' Kim: "Shut Up, Bitch!"
If the apocalypse is truly at hand, I'd place money on Lil' Kim stabbing Tina Turner in the throat and taking over Thunderdome. I have no idea at the moment whether Kim is in or out of jail, but if she can keep spewing out stuff like this, she should be fine no matter what the view out her window is. This scathing number sounds like a cross between Michael Jackson's "Leave Me Alone" and Timex Social Club's "Rumours," only with bigger tits. Like the unacknowledged son Charles Foster Kane might have had with his Xanadu maid, this song is everything you ain't and absofuckinfunny.

OK Go: "Do What You Want"
Unlike the recent stream of pretentious guitar-wielding pretty boys before them, OK Go has at least two things going for them. One, their faded punk attitude has a positive message ("Follow your dream!") and two, the ringing endorsement of whoever's playing the cowbell in the background. They could be the Mississippi Queen's dirty stepchildren. You know what I mean.

Steve Goodman: "Talk Backwards"
As a lad, I know I snapped at least one phonograph needle while desperately seeking the subliminal truth behind the satanic tracks of Led Zep and Styx, among others. My scalp always tingles in the presence of such masked messages, but this dude does them one better by actually singing backwards. The chills you might get hearing Robert Plant's wobbly pledge to his "sweet Satan" is nothing compared to the thrill of romance implicit in Goodman's "Uoy elovi." Plus you won't have to risk breaking your dad's record player.

Snooks Eaglin: "A Thousand Miles from Home"
If I could dedicate only two songs to the displaced people of N'awlins, this would be the first one. Few performers can get anything past Fats Domino, but Eaglin takes the Fat Man's piano-banging lyrics and turns them into the lonely dirge of a wasted life. Were it not for the fact that there are still tens of thousands of refugees who may never see their home again, Snooks might sound like the loneliest man in the world. Our shame is that he's not.

Kermit Ruffins with the Rebirth Brass Band: "Make Way for the Rebirth"
This is all the explanation you should need (should you need an explanation, that is) of why New Orleans can not be allowed to rot away. This music practically rebuilds its own city.