1990s – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Buick MacKane – Big Shoe Head

I haven’t posted these guys in a couple of years. This one hits you from the start. With that title of the song, I had to post this one. I posted a song called The End by them in 2023, and this album has been on my playlist since. At the time, I couldn’t decide which song to write about, so I came back to this one.

The member I have covered the most out of this band is an artist named Alejandro Escovedo, a Texas singer-songwriter who has been around since the early seventies. I’ve had their album The Pawn Shop Years on my playlist for a couple of years now, and it’s fantastic. The band was named after the T. Rex song Buick MacKane and I see the similarities.

Buick MacKane was essentially Alejandro Escovedo stepping away from the more polished feel of his solo work and into something looser and louder. The band’s album The Pawn Shop Years was recorded quickly, with a live feel, and this song fits right into that approach. Buick MacKane was a way for Escovedo to reconnect with the bar-band energy he came up with in earlier groups like Rank and File and The True Believers.

They formed in 1989 and began perfecting songs live that would be recorded and released in 1997. They mostly played around Austin, and they were a mix of garage and glam rock… and it sounds great. Escovedo had just broken up with his band The True Believers when all of this happened. They were popular in Austin, and they had some trouble getting people to accept Buick MacKane because they thought it would be The True Believers part two.

If you want to hear a 1990s rock album that sounds like the early seventies…this is the one. Instead of checking out a few songs…check out the album. I also included the album below on Spotify.

Alejandro Escovedo – “People say, ‘Man, there aren’t bands like you guys anymore,’ and it’s nice, because there’s a lot of this kinda hippie stuff, and then every girl has a guitar and hates men. And we just wanna rock, you know.”

I can’t find a live version of this song…But The End is a great one as well.

Golden Smog – Son (We’ve Kept Your Room Just the Way You Left It)

I wrote about these guys a year or so ago, and I’ve continued to listen to them. The way I describe them is 90s alt-country mixed with Big Star. You literally get Big Star, Wilco, Uncle Tupelo, and The Jayhawks in this band…plus a member of the Replacements.

The Golden Smog started as a loose collaboration of Minneapolis-based musicians who got together to play cover songs under pseudonyms. The name Golden Smog comes from a character in a Flintstones episode. The band initially played country and rock covers, but it evolved into a serious musical project over time.

Membership in this band has been fluid. They have had Chris Mars (Replacements drummer), Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Louris and Perlman of The Jayhawks, Dave Primer from Soul Asylum, and more. Also in 1997, Jody Stephens became their drummer. He was an original member of Big Star.

This song, to my surprise, was first released by a band from the early seventies called Michaelangelo. They were a baroque-folk band around that time. This song was on their 1971 album One Voice Many.

Lyrically, it is very interesting. A mom sends her son a letter, and he is unsure whether to send a reply and tell her the truth about how he is doing…and it’s not good.

This song was released on their debut EP, On Golden Smog, in 1992. Altogether, they have released 1 EP and 4 albums, with the latest one in 2007 and a “Best Of” package in 2008. They reunited in 2019 and played together last year with Jeff Tweedy.

Son (We’ve Kept Your Room Must the Way You Left It)

Hello Mom, I’m fine, where the sun is dyin’How’s the weather around my old hometown?You seem to worry about my livin’, you say that all’s forgivenWhat’s lost is bound to be found

I hope you don’t expect to see me‘Cause you know I’m very far awayYou know I really miss youBut a man’s gotta make it on his own someday

Sue, she sends her greetings ’bout the school and civic meetingsSays she’s doin’ well in her cellYeah, her brother’s won the race nowAnd he’s proud to show his face now‘Round the corner scene in his paper-doll dreams

And me, I guess I’m livin’Takin’ what’s for the livin’Oh, Mom, you know how I really wishYou could see what’s on my mind, yeah

Yeah, I guess it’s kinda lonely, and I’ve been uptight for moneyBut I’ll make it on my own, stayin’ highYou seem upset about the drugs and thingsI guess I’ve finally found my wingsIt’s my way to be free, don’t think you failed in me

Someday, you’ll understand all thisJust what it is I mean to sayJust don’t try and love meI don’t wanna see you hurt this way

Yes, I’ll be ignorin’, makes a guy feel freeKnowin’ that somebody cares somewhere

Mama, can I mail this and let you know I failed?It’s just not right somehow, oh noI’d rather let you think I’m dead than hung on drugs insteadI’m dyin’ anyhow, and it’s too late now

And I guess there’s a moral somewhereBut I can’t seem to think just nowIf I had to do it overGuess I’d try to change the trial somehow

Lord, it’s really hell when you’re livin’ in a spellAnd nothing’s like it seems in a cocaine dream

Guy Clark – The Randall Knife

Finding Guy Clark in the past few years has been amazing. Song after song that I can relate to with words that always fit. I lost my dad in 2005, so I can totally relate to this song. I have some of his tools for making guitars and an old wooden case he made for them. This song brought back a lot of memories. This song is a true story song in every sense of the word. I’m usually a little more hesitant on partial talking songs…but this one is a winner.

The song was on the album Dublin Blues, which was released in 1995. The musicians on this album were staggering. Rodney Crowell, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Nanci Griffith, Emmylou Harris, Kathy Mattea, and more. This song closed the album, and that’s where it belongs because it would have been hard to follow this song.

The song centers on a knife passed down from his father, a Randall Made Knives blade with history behind it. Clark doesn’t treat it like an object; it’s more like a stand-in for memory and loss. He talks about using it, holding it, and what it meant to his dad. By the end, the knife becomes a way of holding on to someone who’s gone.

The arrangement stays simple, and nothing pulls attention from the lyric. You can hear the same mindset in writers like Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle, where detail matters more than volume. Every line feels and is important.

It’s about one knife, one father, one set of memories. But it doesn’t stay there. Anyone who’s held on to something after losing someone will recognize it. Clark never says more than he needs to, and that’s the reason it holds up.

The Randall Knife

My father had a Randall knifeMy mother gave it to himWhen he went off to World War IITo save us all from ruinNow if you’ve ever held a Randall knifeYou’ll know my father wellAnd if a better blade was ever madeIt was probably forged in hell

My father was a good manHe was a lawyer by his tradeAnd only once did I ever seeHim misuse the bladeWell, it almost cut his thumb offWhen he took it for a toolThe knife was made for darker thingsYou could not bend the rules

Well, he let me take it camping onceOn a Boy Scout jamboreeAnd I broke a half an inch offTrying to stick it in a treeWell, I hid it from him for a whileBut the knife and he were oneHe put it in his bottom drawerWithout a hard word one

There it slept and there it stayedFor 20 some odd yearsSort of like ExcaliburExcept waiting for a tear

My father died when I was 40And I couldn’t find a way to cryNot because I didn’t love himNot because he didn’t tryWell, I’d cried for every lesser thingWhiskey, pain and beautyBut he deserved a better tearAnd I was not quite ready

So we took his ashes out to seaAnd poured ’em off the sternAnd then threw the roses in the wakeOf everything we’d learnedAnd when we got back to the houseThey asked me what I wantedNot the law books, not the watchI need the things he’s haunted

My hand burned for the Randall knifeThere in the bottom drawerAnd I found a tear for my father’s lifeAnd all that it stood for

Tragically Hip – Fiddler’s Green

I heard this song while listening to Road Apples last year or so, and I knew I wanted to come back to it. A shout-out to deKe, who recommended this album to me. This one is such a beautiful and sad song. When I looked up the inspiration, I sadly understood.

There’s a quiet weight (best way I can describe it) to Fiddler’s Green that sets it apart in the catalog from what I heard of The Tragically Hip. It was released on Road Apples in 1991; it comes in soft and stays there. No huge dynamic, just a steady song that feels epic at times.

The song was written by Gord Downie after the loss of his 3 year old young nephew. That context explains the tone and meaning without needing to be spelled out in the lyrics. The band keeps the arrangement simple, light acoustic guitar, space between the notes, and a vocal that sounds like it’s being carried more than delivered. Producer Don Smith, who had worked with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, helped guide the sessions toward a more direct sound, and this track benefits from that restraint.

The album was recorded in New Orleans, and the environment shaped parts of the album, but this song feels separate from the rest. While other tracks were more into groove and band interplay, this song is kept simpler. It’s closer to a live recording in spirit, one voice, one guitar, and the room around it. The band understood it didn’t need more.

I didn’t hear this one right away when I first got into Road Apples. It was one of those tracks you come back to later, and it hits you differently. The first thing I thought was how different it was. The album peaked at #1 in Canada in 1991. The album had 6 singles released from it, but this one wasn’t one of them, and that is a shame.

I’m not an expert on this band, but after listening to the debut album and then this one. It sounded like a band settling into who they were. It’s an excellent album.

Fiddler’s Green

One, two, three, four, one, two

September seventeenFor a girl I know it’s Mother’s DayHer son has gone aleeAnd that’s where he will stayWind on the weathervaneTearing blue eyes sailor-meanAs Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrainFor a boy in Fiddler’s Green

His tiny knotted heartWell, I guess it never worked too goodThe timber tore apartAnd the water gorged the woodYou can hear her whispered prayerFor men at masts that always leanThe same wind that moves her hairMoves a boy through Fiddler’s Green

Oh, nothing’s changed anywayOh, nothing’s changed anywayOh, any time today

He doesn’t know a soulThere’s nowhere that he’s really beenBut he won’t travel long aloneNo, not in Fiddler’s GreenBalloons all filled with rainAs children’s eyes turn sleepy-meanAnd Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrainFor a boy in Fiddler’s Green

Junkhouse – Praying for the Rain

Just found this Canadian band recently. A great mid – 90s Canadian roots rock band. This song comes from their 1993 debut, Strays, and it sounds like a band already past the starting line. Just straight ahead rock that stings.

The core of the band was singer and songwriter Tom Wilson, along with Ray Farrugia and Russ Wilson. Before Junkhouse, Wilson had been part of the band Florida Razors, but Junkhouse was a shift toward something more rooted in rock, blues, and country. Junkhouse didn’t come out of nowhere with Strays. By the time they got into the studio, they had already been playing around Hamilton, Ontario, for a while. That tightness shows up in the album. These songs were shaped on stage first. Tom Wilson’s vocal carries most of the weight. You hear it once, it sticks with you.

They never became a global name, but they didn’t disappear either. Their songs stuck around, especially in Canada, and over time they’ve picked up a kind of quiet reputation. If you go back to Strays now, it still sounds tight and right. It doesn’t sound made for radio, even though it got there. It sounds like guys in a room who knew when not to add more and do too much. This is one of those tracks I came across late, not when it was new, but it didn’t matter. It plays the same either way.

After Junkhouse wound down, Tom Wilson kept going. He formed Blackie and the Rodeo Kings with Colin Linden and Stephen Fearing, digging deeper into roots and folk. Later, he worked under the name Lee Harvey Osmond, exploring more atmospheric music.

This song peaked at #41 in Canada in 1993.

Praying For Rain

A big sun setting on the fields, I can’t sleep on this tractor wheelPut my seed into the earth, they never tell me just what it’s worthI’m praying for the rain, the open sky will seal my veinsWhen every farmer has made his grain, I’m praying for the rain, I’m stillPrayingThe road was clear the night was too, and that’s how I remember youI hop a fence, I make my bed, but I can’t make you leave my headI’m praying for the rain, just to wash away this painAnother headlight through my brain, I’m praying for the rain, I’m stillPrayingNow all my words have headed north, they rode a taxi or took a horseThe way I loved you was all in vain, I’m still praying for the rainI’m praying for the rain, beat the drum till I’m insaneGive the next dance craze a name, I’m praying for the rain, I’m stillPrayingYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Terry Allen – Human Remains … album review

When I hear about a Texas singer-songwriter, I have to listen. Terry Allen is no exception, and yes, I love the styles he has and the songwriting. I couldn’t pick one from the album, so I thought, let’s go over the album. I listened to this album this week, over and over, and now while I’m writing this. It’s different, and that is a good thing.

Terry Allen was born in 1943 in Lubbock, Texas, the same West Texas town that produced Buddy Holly. While Holly went straight into rock and roll, Allen took a different path. He studied art at Chouinard Art Institute in California during the 1960s and built a career as a respected visual artist before becoming widely known as a songwriter.

He has never really fit in one category. He came out of Texas in the 1970s, making records that mixed country, folk, and storytelling. The thing about Allen that sets him apart is that he is a songwriter who thinks like a novelist. By the mid-90s, he released this album, Human Remains, an album that sounded loose but carried the stories of people and places. He made this album with the help of Lloyd Maines, David Byrne, Joe Ely, Lucinda Williams, and many others.

It feels like a set of sketches from the American West and Southwest. The songs deal with memory, loss, odd characters, and the passing of time. It’s not a polished “Nashville” production. The record sounds live, with guitars, accordion, and rhythm sections that set the mood. The album is full of characters, wisdom, and plenty of commentary.

The first song that really caught my ear was What of Alicia. I like everything about this song and the lyrics of two people during a time frame until they met. The album kicks off with a rolling number called Gone To Texas with the lyric Hey I don’t need no chickenshit business man, tellin’ me what to do, Even if you ain’t got no business, same thing goes for you. I thought, well, this is different, and I like it. Another song that is mixed with humor is Peggy Legg. There’s a one-legged woman, On the dance floor, An that one leg’s so pretty, She don’t need no more. I mean, that is imagination and clever.

Flatland Boogie is an enjoyable song about cruising in a Ford in the southwest. I hope you give the album a try. The songwriting is top-notch, and he has wit to spare. The lyrics fit so well together, and the music makes this album accessible to everyone.

I saw a review by a user, and he said this. I don’t know what kind of music this is. Okay, it’s definitely country, but it’s not normal country; it’s something different. Can’t put my finger on it. It’s not “rock & roll” country, and it’s not Neo-Traditionalist Country. It’s not folksy, and it’s not artsy. I don’t think any traditional genre would claim this stuff. It’s just Terry Allen.

That’s really close to what I think as well, and it’s a huge compliment. Allen has his own thing going on here, and I respect and enjoy it. Terry Allen, as I said, is a well-known visual artist, and you can see some of his work here. Some of his art is in museums.

What Of Alicia

Well he just turned 17
When he left old Abilene
With his bag
And permission from the kin
Yeah but things just weren’t the same
After his Momma signed her name
And let the navy…take him in

Ahhh
What of Alicia
Española
13 years old
Child of Mexico

And he just turned 19 years
When he learned to face his fears
Of growing up
And acting like a man
He just cocked his sailor cap
Stuck his hands down in his lap
Leaned back and stroked them girls in Japan

Ahhh
What of Alicia
Española
15 years old
Girl of Mexico

An he just turned 23
When he finally took his final leave
Anchored in the port of San Diego
Yeah he met this border girl
An he fancied her body’s curl
So he married her
Then carried her to Colorado

Ahhh
What of Alicia
Española
19 years old
An old woman
But out of Mexico

Wilco – How to Fight Loneliness

I first heard of Wilco from the song Secret of the Sea by Billy Bragg and Wilco for the album Mermaid Avenue Volume II. I started to follow them more closely and learned a lot from bloggers about them.

Wilco was formed in 1994 in Chicago, Illinois, following the breakup of Uncle Tupelo. The band was founded by Jeff Tweedy, along with former Uncle Toledo members John Stirratt, Ken Coomer, and Max Johnston. Over the years, Wilco evolved from an alternative country sound into a more experimental and genre-blending style. After this album, their sound changed from the alt-country sound they had with Uncle Tupelo.

What first jumps out with this song is the acoustic in front with a small amount of reverb. It takes me back a little to John Lennon’s version of Stand By Me. I can’t get enough of that sound. The song started with Tweedy at the piano. It was written around a repeating chord pattern and a vocal line that doesn’t try to do too much.

This was on the album Summerteeth, released in 1999. It was their 3rd studio album. From listening to them recently, Wilco had already moved past the alt-country tag that followed them after Uncle Tupelo. Being There opened the door. Summerteeth walked through it and didn’t look back. I really like this album.

From what I’ve read, there was tension during the making of the album. Jay Bennett’s role grew, and he and Tweedy wrote most of the album. So did the friction. Multi-tracking replaced some of the earlier live feel. Drummer Ken Coomer has said parts were built in sections rather than full takes. The band was evolving in real time, and not everyone was comfortable with the shift. Still, the focus was on getting the songs right, even if that meant reworking them again and again, and they did a great job.

The album peaked at #78 on the Billboard Album Charts and #38 in the UK in 1999.

How To Fight Loneliness

How to fight loneliness
Smile all the time
Shine you teeth til meaningless
Sharpen them with lies

And whatevers going down
Will follow you around
Thats how you fight loneliness
You laugh at every joke
Drag your blanket blindly
Fill your heart with smoke
And the first thing that you want
Will be the last thing you ever need
Thats how you fight it

Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time

Uncle Tupelo w/Doug Sahm – Give Back The Key To My Heart

Yes, I posted Sahm recently, but here he is leading the way with Uncle Tupelo. What a great and natural combination. Running across this was just fantastic! I can’t put into words how much I love the down-home sound of this. One more legend is on this album that I will reveal at the bottom of the post…no skipping or peaking!

When Uncle Tupelo teamed up with Doug Sahm on this song, it felt less like a guest spot and more like a handoff between two generations. Sahm had already lived a lifetime in Texas blues, country, and rock and roll. Uncle Tupelo were still mapping out what roots rock could sound like in the early ’90s. The song sits right in the middle of that meeting point.

Sahm sounds relaxed, like he’s telling a story on a porch. Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy hang back just enough to let the song lead. I always liked Uncle Tupelo anyway, but add Doug Sahm? Oh hell yes! I could listen to this type of music all day and twice on Sunday, as the saying goes. It gives me a great feeling, and it just fits all together so well. The backup vocals are on target, but also riding around the edges; it’s such a lived-in sound that I love. There is no overdubbing or big production…just back porch sounding goodness.

This track shows what Uncle Tupelo were always good at, connecting past and present without making it sound like a museum piece. Doug Sahm doesn’t feel like a legend that was just dropped in for credibility. He feels like part of the band, which in this he is. Doug Sahm wrote this song, and it was on the Uncle Tupelo album called Anodyne, released in 1993. He first released it as Sir Doug and the Texas Tornados in 1976.

There is one more legend on this album doing some vocals…the one and only Joe Ely. He did the lead vocals on Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?

Give Back The Key To My Heart

Take my picture off the wallIt don’t matter to me at allSaid I was headed for a fallBut you wanted me to crawl

Give back my TVIt don’t mean that much to meWhile you’re giving back my thingsGive me back the key to my heart

Give back the key to my heartGive back the key to my heartAnd let my love flow like a riverStraight into your heart, dear

Well, you say I was the oneTo blame for the wrong that’s been doneWell, you got a friend named cocaineAnd to me, he is to blame

He has drained life from your faceHe has taken my placeWhile you’re alone in San AntoneGive me back the key to my heart

Give back the key to my heartGive back the key to my heartAnd let my love flow like a riverStraight into your heart, dear

Whiskeytown – Faithless Street …album review

I really like this band. I spent the week living with their album Faithless Street, and what a tight album. Not just musically but vocally. It’s a true album, one song blends into another smoothly, and like I said, tight but loose in just the right spots.

Whiskeytown had one member that you might know. They were an alternative country band from Raleigh, North Carolina. They were active from 1994 to 2000. The band was led by Ryan Adams, who played a role in popularizing the alt-country genre in the 1990s. He blended traditional country with rock and indie influences. They fit in well with The Jayhawks and Wilco in that era.

Faithless Street was made fast and cheap, with a band that was still figuring itself out. It was recorded in North Carolina in 1994, and the sessions were about capturing what Whiskeytown sounded like in real time. They were limited on studio hours, so songs were often tracked live with only a few overdubs. If something felt right, it stayed, even if it wasn’t clean.

Ryan Adams was writing constantly and pushing the group to cut new material almost as quickly as it came together. Some songs had been played on stage for months. Others were nearly brand new. That mix gave the album its loose feel. You can hear moments where the band sticks to a groove and others where they’re holding it together by instinct, off the cuff.

The record opens with Midway Park, and right away, you get the blueprint. Country structure with rock volume. I love that welcoming opening riff that drives that song. Songs like 16 Days and Excuse Me While I Break My Own Heart Tonight ” go into classic barroom sound with the pedal steel and open choruses. There’s also Houses on the Hill, which would later become one of Adams’ calling cards. Even in this early version, the melody sticks.

Songs like Lo-Fi Tennessee Mountain Angel (For Kathy Poindexter) and Too Drunk to Dream go back to roots country. You also have acoustic-driven songs like Factory Girl that to me is as close to perfect as you can get.

The production is spare. Guitars are up front. The drums don’t dominate. The vocals aren’t smoothed out, but they are tight. That raw edge became the album’s identity. Within a few years, Whiskeytown would shift lineups, and Adams would get more well-known.

He has a successful solo career and has also produced albums for Willie Nelson and collaborated with the Counting Crows, Weezer, Norah Jones, America, Minnie Driver, Cowboy Junkies, and Toots & the Maytals. He has written a book of poems, Infinity Blues, and Hello Sunshine, a collection of poems and short stories.

I hope you all will give this album a listen.

Jam – Worlds Apart

I first heard about The Jam in the 80s, around the same time I found Big Star, The Replacements, The Clash, and REM. When I listen to The Jam, I think of the Kinks and The Who right away, and that is always a good thing.

When people talk about the British punk explosion of the late ’70s, The Jam always stand a little apart. While others were known for being abrasive and loud, The Jam drew influence from 1960s Mod culture. Paul Weller had a knack for crafting sharp, pop-infused songwriting about everyday British life. They were formed in Woking in the early ’70s by Paul Weller, bassist Bruce Foxton, and drummer Rick Buckler. The band was a trio that was tight and direct.

They went from pub stages to one of the biggest bands in Britain, leaving behind a catalog that is very strong. There is not much information on this song out there. It wasn’t on a studio album, nor was it a B-side. It was released in 1997 for the first time on their Direction Reaction Creation album, which covered all the studio albums, non-album singles, and demos. They broke up in 1982 after releasing 6 albums in all.

From what I found, it was recorded around 1978 for the album All Mod Cons, but never made the album. I’m sure that is the case because it was also included on the All Mod Cons (Deluxe Edition) that was released in 2002. They were an incredible band, being a tight full trio. Direction Reaction Creation peaked at #8, fifteen years after they broke up in 1997.

Worlds Apart

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

The difference between every day
I can’t think of the words to say

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

I’ve been in some clubs where the music’s loud
‘cos I see your face in every crowd
But it’s not really you

It’s like having a cold on a summers day
Something ain’t right and I want you to stay
You must know that

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

Paul Westerberg – 14 Songs …album review

Everyone knows I’m a huge Replacements fan. In the 1980s, I leaned more toward them than mainstream bands. They would produce music that I always hoped the mainstream would, but that didn’t happen. They broke up on July 4, 1991. Westerberg released his debut album, 14 Songs, two years later in 1993. I’ve never explored his solo albums a bunch, but now it’s time.

The album doesn’t sound like a Replacements record, and it doesn’t go after anything modern for the time. It sounds like Westerberg was finding his way without the baggage of the Replacements. With this album, he did find his way just fine.

The album moves between loose home recordings and more finished studio tracks, and that contrast works. Songs like Love You in the Fall and Runaway Wind sound close and personal, almost like letters instead of songs. Westerberg keeps the arrangements simple, letting the songs breathe and sometimes wobble. The roughness isn’t fixed because it doesn’t need to be. The opening song, Knockin’ On Mine (live version here), kicks the door in with a rough, cool, welcoming riff.

He tried some different styles with this album, like Black Eyed Susan and Even Here We Are, with a slight folk feel. The song that really won me over is A Few Minutes of Silence. It’s punchy and powerful, and Westerberg’s voice is on target. Dice Behind Your Shades and Mannequin Shop are two rocking songs that spoke to me right off the bat.

I also noticed on this album that his voice is slightly different. I always loved his voice for the human feel and the roughness. He doesn’t lose that with this album, but it’s more concise and not all over the place…it seems more focused.

What holds 14 Songs together is the writing. Westerberg writes in everyday language and trusts the melody to do the rest. There’s humor, regret, and acceptance, often in the same verse, which again shows his songwriting skills. I always thought that Westerberg was one of the best songwriters of the 1980s, and he didn’t disappoint on this one.

Tom Petty – Out In The Cold

I saw them on this tour (Into The Great Wide Open), and it would be the only time I got to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. He came to Nashville on that last tour, and I stupidly didn’t go. I bought this album the day it was released. It will always be one of my favorite Petty albums.

Petty had released his solo album Full Moon Fever in 1989, and it was huge, with 5 singles pulled from it. This album was a reunion with the Heartbreakers, and 7 singles were pulled from this album, including this one. The making of Into the Great Wide Open emerged from a creative stretch where Tom Petty felt clear again after the fights with record labels that had plagued him earlier in his career. Coming off Full Moon Fever, he wasn’t trying to recreate that sound. He wanted to make a real band record, one that sounded lived-in, and he succeeded with this one.

A huge part of the album’s sound came from working again with Jeff Lynne, who helped keep everything tight without making it stiff. Lynne pushed for clean arrangements and strong melodies, but Petty made sure the songs still breathed and felt organic. Many tracks started as simple demos, acoustic guitar and voice, then slowly grew as the band locked into the groove. First takes often mattered more than perfection.

This song peaked at #1 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock Charts in 1991. The album peaked at #13 on the Billboard 200, #4 in Canada, #12 in New Zealand, and # #3 in the UK. This song was written by Petty and Jeff Lynne.

Out in the Cold

The day fell down, the air got coldI walked out in the streetDaydreamed for a mile or twoStaring at my feet

Like a workin’ boy, out of luckFallin’ through the cracksNight rolled in, I turned back homeA hard wind at my back

I’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)Body and soul (Out in the cold)There’s nowhere to go (Out in the cold)I’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)

Well I woke up, my brain was stunnedI could not come aroundI reached out to grab my keysTumbled to the ground

I thought of you, starry eyedI wonder where we standDid I just fall from your armsDown into your hands?

I’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)Body and soul (Out in the cold)There’s nowhere to go (Out in the cold)I’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)

I’m outStandin’ in a doorway

I’m outWalkin’ aroundHands in my pocketsI’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)Body and soul (Out in the cold)There’s nowhere to go (Out in the cold)I’m out in the cold (Out in the cold)

Paul Kelly – How To Make Gravy

Here is a Christmas post I wanted to get in this year since the day fits!

Happy Gravy Day in Australia! It happens every December 21st in Australia because of the first verse of the song.

Here is a Christmas song that is good on any day of the year but one we don’t hear much in America. I looked up “Gravy Day” in Australia and this is what I found: Gravy Day is an unofficial Australian holiday as marked by Kelly in his song, How to Make Gravy. The song is written from the perspective of a recently incarcerated man, Joe, as he writes to his relative, Dan, from prison.

Paul Kelly: “I started thinking… maybe I’ll write it from the point of view of somebody who is missing Christmas, who can’t get to Christmas, why can’t they get there? Maybe they’re overseas and they can’t get home. Then I thought, ‘Oh, he’s in prison’. The song wrote itself from there.”

The song is written in the form of a letter from a prisoner named Joe, addressed to his brother Dan, shortly before Christmas. Joe expresses regret about missing Christmas with his family, gives instructions on how to make gravy (a key part of their holiday meal), and reflects on family members, relationships, and the pain of separation.

I like great storytellers…and Paul Kelly is one of them. His music touches on many styles. Country, rock, folk, reggae, bluegrass, and touches of many more styles. He has been described as the poet laureate of Australian music. He writes about everyday life that many people can relate to. I’ve seen this stated about him… Paul Kelly’s songs dig deep into Australia’s culture.

As for who will make the gravy in the song, the question has been debated over the years, although most believe it to be Dan as Joe is sharing the recipe with him.

And yes the recipe in the song is real for gravy.

Paul Kelly: “It was a song that doesn’t have a chorus, it’s set in prison, so I never thought it would be a hit song or anything.”

How To Make The Gravy

Hello Dan, it’s Joe here
I hope you’re keeping well
It’s the 21st of December
And now they’re ringing the last bells
If I get good behaviour
I’ll be out of here by July
Won’t you kiss my kids on Christmas Day?
Please don’t let ’em cry for me

I guess the brothers are driving down from Queensland
And Stella’s flying in from the coast
They say it’s gonna be a hundred degrees, even more maybe
But that won’t stop the roast
Who’s gonna make the gravy now?
I bet it won’t taste the same
Just add flour, salt, a little red wine
And don’t forget a dollop of tomato sauce
For sweetness and that extra tang

And give my love to Angus, and to Frank and Dolly
Tell ’em all I’m sorry, I screwed up this time
And look after Rita, I’ll be thinking of her
Early Christmas morning when I’m standing in line

I hear Mary’s got a new boyfriend
I hope he can hold his own
Do you remember the last one? What was his name again?
Ahh, just a little too much cologne
And Roger, you know I’m even gonna miss Roger
‘Cause there’s sure as hell no one in here I want to fight

Oh, praise the Baby Jesus, have a Merry Christmas
I’m really gonna miss it, all the treasure and the trash
And later in the evening, I can just imagine
You’ll put on Junior Murvin and push the tables back

And you’ll dance with Rita, I know you really like her
Just don’t hold her too close
Oh, brother, please don’t stab me in the back
I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just my mind it plays up
Multiplies each matter, turns imagination into fact

You know I love her badly, she’s the one to save me
I’m gonna make some gravy, I’m gonna taste the fat
Ahh, tell her that I’m sorry, yeah, I love her badly
Tell ’em all I’m sorry, and kiss the sleepy children for me
You know one of these days, I’ll be making gravy
I’ll be making plenty, I’m gonna pay ’em all back

Yeah, do-do-do-do, do-do
Do-do-do-do, do-do

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“You shouldn’t like music that was made before you were born”

I thought I would do something different today. I was reminded of this by the phrase, “it was before my time.” Movies and music fall into this category. I do know people who will not watch movies made “before their time.” I don’t think many of my readers would agree to this statement, but who knows?

I had a co-worker in the early 2000s (Sam) tell me that I shouldn’t like music that was before my time because it was unnatural (yes, he said that). I was first kinda of amused and shocked. I like Sam a lot, and we would talk a lot; he is a smart fellow. However, on this point, I didn’t understand. Why? Is there some unwritten law that I can’t like 1950s or 1960s music up to 1967, when I was born? That cut off some of the best music of the 20th century and beyond.

He grew up in the 80s, as I did, and was probably around 5 or so years younger than me. I’ve seen other people act the same way. If it were before they were born, then they would not give it a second listen. If a movie is black and white, they act as if they are near a radiation leak!

I think the subject centered around how I loved 50s and 60s music and The Beatles, The Who, The Stones, and The Kinks. He said I should be listening to music from my teenage years (well, I WAS…60s music was my soundtrack growing up), but I DID listen to the top 40 when I was a teenager, which, to me, didn’t live up to those bands to any degree or form. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare Men Without Hats to those 1960s bands. It was hard to stomach some of the ’80s for me, but not all. Now I’m busy catching up on music I missed that wasn’t on Top 40 radio at the time. I did find an oasis in the 80s, alternative music like The Replacements and REM…and the classic bands.

I still want to find other music and movies I like. Why would age have any effect on the music, whether we like it or not? That doesn’t mean I don’t like new music. I have posted newer bands here before who have just released albums. If it’s good, it doesn’t matter what era it came from, at least not to me. Christian, Graham, and Lisa all posted some newer songs that I liked. With movies, yes, I find some I like. I just saw Weapons and loved it, plus there are others.

I’m not putting people down at all who think like that. Hey, if that is what they believe, more power to them. I never believed in criticizing people for their opinions, music, or otherwise. Whatever blows their hair back.

Anyway, what do you think?

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Little Village – Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working

All I had to do was read off the members, and I knew I would like this band. Who were the members? Ry Cooder, John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, and Jim Keltner. Each one of them is a legend, but when they teamed up in 1992, they made music that felt effortless.. This song plays like an anthem for anyone who has ever tried to get something done while the world keeps knocking at the door.

When Little Village came together in the early 1990s, it wasn’t a typical supergroup situation. Ry Cooder, John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, and Jim Keltner had already worked together in the studio. They worked on Hiatt’s 1987 album Bring the Family, a record cut in just four days. This album would be called Little Village.

Around 1991, discussions began about whether those four players could try something more equal and together as a band. Nick Lowe summed up the vibe when he said, “We only needed a name and a reason.” The name came from a 1930s reference, but the reason was simply that they liked working with each other. This wasn’t a record-company idea, and it wasn’t nostalgia.

While the sessions were friendly, the band admitted that being equals instead of backups slowed things down. Decisions took longer, and sometimes a song would go in five directions before landing on one. Lowe joked that it was like “four people in the passenger seat reaching for the wheel.” Critics generally liked it, although some expected another John Hiatt album and were surprised by its humor and different musical turns. Fans of any one member found something to enjoy. The album even received a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group.

Nick Lowe did say it wasn’t as good as it could have been. He blamed it on having too much time to record it. The album peaked at #22 in the UK and #66 on the Billboard Album Charts in 1992. Over time, this album has developed a cult following, especially among fans of Hiatt and Cooder.

This next video has a bonus live song, She Runs Hot. Enjoy Ry Cooder’s slide before they break into Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working.

Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
I don’t work for you

If you bug me at work I can’t get it done
Too tired, baby to have any fun
You got complaints, better keep ’em hid
Don’t come ’round here mess with the kid

Don’t bug me when I’m sleepin’
I’m sleepin’, I’m sleepin’
Don’t bug me when I’m sleepin’
‘Cause I need my rest
Don’t bug me when I’m

Don’t bug me when I’m got to buzz awhile
I said don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Now you bug me at home when I’m tired and beat
Can’t even stand on my own two feet
You call on the phone, you make me uptight
And I can’t even work with my baby at night

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
I don’t work for you

Don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
Don’t bug me
Mister I don’t work for you

Don’t bug me, don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
Don’t bug me, don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
At the sound of the tone
Better hang up the phone
If you want to be my friend
Don’t bug me when I’m working

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