though I am poor, I am free

Something of a mixed bag this time out, as I’ve been busy with other things. I largely avoided listening to music while I was ill, well aware of how sickbed associations can linger. Twenty five years ago, a similar bout of the flu made it impossible to this day for me to even think of crème-filled éclairs or roasted peanuts without getting a case of the dry heaves, and any love I had for The Primitives’ debut LP was permanently soured by another bug suffered through in the early 1990’s.

There was the Camera Obscura album my wife had playing in the background while I was laid up, but overhearing from the upstairs bedroom isn’t the same as actively queuing up something to listen to. Those distant snatches and fragments of sweet indie pop could have been lullabies sung by solicitous pixies for how they registered on my consciousness. I spent a morning fixated on that Dead Boys’ song, but its charm wore thin rather quickly as the rhyming of “loser” and “reducer” began to grate on my nerves, and I puzzled in vain to figure out just what the hell a “sonic reducer” was supposed to be, anyhow. A “devil machine?” An “electronic dream?” Fine, fine, but can I see some tech specs, please? Or even a MSRP?

I did think that Bush could have shortened and livened up his State of the Union address if he had just lipsynched to Howard Jones’s “Things Can Only Get Better,” instead of defensively paraphrasing the song’s lyrics. Cheney and the First Lady could have put on oversized pastel sweaters and made enthusiastic hand clapping gestures during the “whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa” parts to complete the effect.

The only other piece of music that happened to dart past my path in recent days was a Lily Allen video a friend posted in her online journal. It was an interesting piece that dared to answer the question “What would happen if one were to mix Len’s ‘If You Steal My Sunshine,’ Bjork’s closet, and an irritating British accent?” (Answer: The undying fealty of hipster music critics and the taste of crematorium ash in my mouth.)

On that pleasant note, here are some ever enjoyable palate-cleansing tracks culled from my favorites folder:

Devo – It Takes a Worried Man (from Pioneers Who Got Scalped: The Anthology, 2000) – This lovely, twisted cover of a folk standard was the best thing to come out of Neil Young and Dean Stockwell’s dead-on-arrival 1982 “cult” (read: obtuse and self-indulgent) movie, Human Highway.

The Fall – Victoria (from The Frenz Experiment, 1988) – I’ve never understood the appeal of The Fall’s music. I suspect there must be some recessive gene involved, as several people whose opinions I respect greatly seem to swear by Mark E. Smith’s serpentine musical vision. Perhaps I’ll send an email to the Human Genome Project folks and ask them to look into it for me.

I can appreciate an excellent Kinks cover when I hear one, though, and this certainly fits the bill.

Wolfe Tones – The Foggy Dew (from 25th Anniversary, 1991) – See, Bono, this is a rebel song, and unapologetically so, you pompous West Briton prick. I know it’s easier to champion the causes of people on other continents than of those in your own back yard. That might cause controversy, hurt record sales, and make people realize that your band’s postured idealism is a convenient front to mask the fact that U2 is nothing more than the college rock equivalent to Air Supply.

A note about the song: My wife pointed out to me that you can tell a performer’s politics by their choice of lyrics used in “The Foggy Dew.” Nationalists use the line “fought with Cathal Brugha,” referring to the Irish Republican commander killed by Free State forces in 1922. Fence sitters and/or apologists for the Free State’s brand of church and banker controlled quasi-fascism use the line “fought with de Valera true.” Although Eamon de Valera was also an Irish Republican leader who opposed the Free State, and did much to correct its course as Taoiseach (leader of the Irish government) in later years, the substitution of his name for Brugha’s glosses over the unfinished business of the Irish War of Independence and Irish Civil War.