The Video is "glitter S.P.C." on YouTube. The song is by the Meices.
Click bait alert! This is no such thing. It's more of a favorites than a best-of, and many of the inclusions have no commercial potential, not now and not when they were first released. Not to mention that there are more than ten, in no particular order. Also, it looks like the comments have overpowered the list. But, I digress.
Since I am all about the love, and my life's work is helping people to be happy, maybe we should call it a list of recommendations. At the end there are some “honorable mentions.” They are so called because it would be unseemly for a “Top 10” to include much more than twenty songs. The video at the top is there mostly for the beautiful cars, because people like visuals. He's Waiting by the Meices, however, should get an honorable mention as a great cover song.
Also, there are no instrumentals on the list. So forget Ornithology, Green Onions, and Giant Steps, no Mancini, no Morricone, no So What? Items on the list share the following characteristics: great musical and artistic merit; high levels of sincerity and enthusiasm; and great listenability. The hallmark of great visual art is: would you enjoy looking at this item every day indefinitely? Could you always seem to find something new there? For me, substitute listening and these songs all pass those tests. On to the list:
Whispering Bells, by the Del Vikings;
Subterranean Homesick Blues, by Bob Dylan;
Higher and Higher, by Jackie Wilson;
Street Waves, by Pere Ubu;
Suffering with the Blues, by Little Willie John;
Here but I'm Gone, by Curtis Mayfield;
Waterloo Sunset, by the Kinks;
Sick and Tired, by Chris Kenner;
In Bloom, by Nirvana;
Tomorrow Night, by Lonnie Johnson;
Crazy, by Patsy Cline;
River, by Joni Mitchell;
One, by Johnny Cash;
Change Is Gonna Come, by Sam Cooke;
Little Johnny Jewel, by Television;
Lush Life, by Johnny Hartman W/ John Coltrane;
Bohemian Like You, by the Dandy Warhols;
Ma e un canto brasileiro, by Lucio Battisti;
Day by Day, by Jimmy Scott;
A Few Words in Defense of Our Country, by Randy Newman;
I Love You, by the Volumes;
Joey, Joey, Joey, by Leslie Odom Jr.; and
Queenie, by the Gories.
Twenty-three should be enough for a Top 10. Let's give Honorable Mention (participation) trophies to:
How Can You Hang on to a Dream?, by Tim Hardin;
Murder Most Foul, by Bob Dylan;
Corcovado, by Stan Getz W/ Astrud Gilberto;
Jessica's Suicide, by Bad Astronaut (or Armchair Martian);
Run, Joe!, by Chuck Brown; and
Have Mercy, by Don Covay.
If your binoculars are still hungry for rare birds, look for I Am What I Am, by Adrian Belew, which is essentially an instrumental that uses a found object for a vocal track. The effect is stunning.
I consciously tried to include a song or two from the oughts and the teens, but it's slim pickings outside of a couple of familiar names. Randy Newman's A Few Words in Defense of Our Country, Bob Dylan's new work, Curtis Mayfield's last album, and One, by Johnny Cash, were the only ones to make the grade. Randy's I'm Dreaming is also great. That last album by Johnny is a shockingly naked and emotionally charged thrill ride. Some of the songs really grab you by the neck. Rusty Cage; Hurt. Imminent death really focused his attention on the emotional content of the material.
The new “popular music” that I hear does nothing for me. It is all synthetic, and it sounds it. Auto-Tune, drum machines, unrecognizable samples, computers. There is rarely any emotionality to it, other than rude expressions of simple desires. The story content is minimal. Actual instruments are usually present in some limited capacity, but not always. Some of it is politically interesting. I quickly run out of nice things to say. Perhaps I should leave the comments on recent music to people who like it and have actually listened to all of it.
The music business has fundamentally changed. When I am in LA, I listen a lot to KXLU, and I think that a lot of what I hear is very good. Most of it is new music by bands with instruments, but their road to making a living is very different from the old days. No more being discovered by a label, and getting a record deal, and making the charts, playing big places, and selling a lot of records. Now the bands are on their own. Find gigs that pay, and sell merch at the gigs. Some of them can develop enough of a following to travel around the university circuit and play bigger shows, selling more of their own CDs and t-shirts. As recently as twenty years ago, a band like the White Stripes could start in that pattern and break into the big time. That “big time” is a tougher nut to crack now, if it even exists.
There are a lot of bands on YouTube that I find interesting, artistically and musically successful, and worthy of greater fame. And more money. Some are as new as a baby born this morning; others may have been striving for years already. I don't know if there is any money there for bands like Tricot, Clever Girl, or Covet. DOMi and JD Beck are fantastically talented and entertaining, but do they have a pathway to the real money? None of these problems are new, however, and most musicians throughout history have fallen into the category of “struggling.”
I've had musician friends since I was a teenager. Only two of the band guys from my town managed to make a living all of their lives working exclusively in music. I've picked up a few musician friends as an adult. All of them have schedules that are a challenge to maintain. One does mostly session work, but he also gives lessons. One got a Masters' Degree in music, classical guitar. He had been in working bands since he was fourteen or so. Cover bands; lounge bands; wedding bands. He taught at the local university, gave lessons, played weddings with his wife, a violinist, and was in at least one band. (RIP, Danny.) A friend in LA was a terrific professional sax player. He was the music director for a private high school, a member of a second rung pit orchestra, gave private lessons, and was in a jazz combo. One fellow finally gave up on rock and roll and devoted himself to jingle writing. He actually made some money, but he was also simultaneously giving guitar lessons, playing sessions, and doing band work.
It reminds me of another guy I knew. This fellow had immigrated from Israel several years before, and when I knew him he was the “owner-chief cook-and bottle washer” for a one man sandwich shop. He told me, “anybody can make a living in the food business. Anybody who is willing to work sixteen hours every day, seven days a week.” Maybe music is a bit like that.
It is a stretch to call a man like Little Willie John “lucky.” He was born in 1937, had a giant hit with “Fever” in 1956, was an out of control low-level criminal by 1963, and died in prison in 1968. That's thirty-one-years-old by my count. But his great work will be appreciated far into the future. There will be no such dignity accorded to the work of our current crop of musicians. Not even, if I don't miss my guess, the best among them. Music is a celebrity culture now. Musical talent is valued only in the nameless hired help. Lady Ga Ga will be remembered; DOMi, a phenomenal musical talent, probably not.
But to paraphrase the great man: struggle not with the modern world. It is the one thing that you cannot change or avoid. (Salvatore Dali, “never try to be modern. It is the one thing that you cannot avoid.”)
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