In the spring of 1991, R.E.M. had a monumental hit with the song "Losing my religion" from their album Out of Time. I had known them only because of their great song "Stand," which had been popular a couple of years ago. But "Losing my religion" (with it's accompanying video directed by Tarsem Singh) was one of the first big songs to cross over from college stations to popular ones, really one of the first songs that brought "alternative music" out into the daylight (which would continue when Nirvana showed up a year later).
I remember hearing the song on the radio during the last spring break of my high school years. Kristi and I drove up to her family's home in Troy, Alabama, where she was going to college at Troy State University. I was visiting the school and had an interview in the hopes of getting some kind of scholarship there. I don't really know what I was thinking, I guess it was about just wanting to go away with my friend and even though I was admitted, I didn't go to Troy State. My mom gave me like $200 for the whole trip, which was more than enough. The first night we were in Alabama, we went to some midnight sale at this mall with her family. Before midnight, we walked the mall and I dropped half of my vacation money in the music store. I think I bought like five CDs, but mostly remember getting Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation, Siouxsie & the Banshees' Peepshow and an album by a country singer I really liked, Lorrie Morgan, called Something in Red. My tastes had gone from teenage pop to hair bands to full on eclectic. That night, I also bought a book called The Diary of Laura Palmer, this Twin Peaks based novel that was supposed to be Laura's real diary. In fact, it was written by David Lynch's daughter, Jennifer Lynch, who went on to write and direct the terrible movie Boxing Helena and more recently, Surveillance. I remember on the way back to their house, Kristi's brother was giving me a hard time about it & told his mom that there are two whole pages where it's just a list of guys that Laura Palmer had sex with. I denied it. He was right.
Aside from the college visit, the week was pretty low-key. We hung out with Kristi's relatives, rented movies (Child's Play) and I dyed my hair red. When we got back, I think it was the day before Easter. My mom was still putting out our Easter baskets, filled with candy & some random gifts back then, so on Easter Sunday, I had a copy of Out of Time in my basket. It was another eye-opening album, followed by my discovery of the band's earlier collection, Eponymous. I listened to these albums all the time, wrote a short story called "Can't Get There From Here" inspired by the title of one of the band's songs, and even set it in a city called Rockville after my favorite R.E.M. song, "Don't go back to Rockville." And I had this poster on my wall:
The next year when their gorgeous Automatic For The People album was released, I was there on the first day to get my copy. It was even better than Out of Time, beautiful and sad... In fact, it might have been one of those albums that is so perfect that whatever comes next just never had a chance. At least, it was for me. Monster never caught my ear, nor has most of the stuff they've recorded since, so I've sort of... stayed out of time, if you will, and stuck with that particular phase of R.E.M.
I first heard about singer/songwriter Laura Jansen through another great singer/songwriter, Beth Thornley. They're both part of LA's Hotel Cafe music scene. Laura has a new EP called Single Girls (available on itunes!) and has just released this gorgeous new video for the title track. You should definitely check it out. Also the video for my favorite LJ song, "Bells" is a must-see.
I had seen the video for Concrete Blonde's single, "Joey," on MTV and really liked it. I had the cassette single, which also featured a b-side called "I want you" (that was later played in the film Point Break as Keanu Reeves watched Lori Petty from a distance. Lucky girl...) I loved both songs and really wanted their album, Bloodletting.
Around this time, Sting was on tour and Concrete Blonde was opening for him in Miami. Kristi and I were thinking about going, because she liked Sting & I liked "Joey." Then a Slaughter/Poison or some such pairing was announced and we decided to go to that one instead. At the end of the year, my family went up to Ocala to visit my Granny for New Year's Eve. She always gave us cash on our birthdays & sometimes for Christmas, so on the way home from Ocala, I think I pestered my mom so much that we stopped at Sound Warehouse before even going to our house! I bought Bloodletting and... I didn't like it that much.
...to be continued about 8 songs from here. For now, check out the video for "Joey" on YouTube! Also, listen to "I want you" while gazing at Keanu's beauty:
In the early version of my autobiographical mix tape, this is the start of a new chapter, the second disc of the box set in my head. It was called 1990-1993: An Addiction Is Born. Because, as I mentioned, for my 17th birthday, I was given my first CD player. It was a portable player with a tape deck and a radio. It was just as thrilling to me as getting my first MP3 player years later. On my birthday that year, I got a bunch of great CDs: Sinéad's I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got and The Lion and the Cobra, 'til tuesday's Everything's Different Now, Tracy Chapman and, from my dad's friend Linda, The Go-Go's Greatest.
But really, my first CD was the single for George Michael's song "Freedom."
My birthday is on December 12th, so in addition to shopping for that, everyone's going all crazy looking for Christmas presents, too. My dad always needed a hand at the mall, so usually, he'd take me or my brother on these trips with him. Usually, Linda would come alone and we'd go to Cutler Ridge Mall (which is a neighborhood in the southern region of Miami) because it was usually the least crowded.
I had asked for a CD player and was hoping it's what I'd get. However, I have to confess, I spied Linda buying that Go-Go's album and that's when I knew I was definitely getting it. So I secretly bought the "Freedom" single.
The first time I played it was on my dad's roommate's player after school one day. I'm not sure if it actually had the original recording, but it did have a great b-side called "Fantasy" and the [back to reality mix] Which. Is. AWESOME. At the time I flipped out because he was sampling (which was sorta new then) from Soul II Soul's "Back to life," Neneh Cherry's "Buffalo stance" and Sinéad O'Connor's "I am stretched on your grave." It wasn't until like 15 years later, working at Barnes & Noble when I heard that familiar piece of music and realized that Sinéad had sampled the drum solo from a James Brown song called "Funky drummer" - but that dizzying string bit from Sinéad's song was there as well, so who knows. It wasn't only the beginning of my CD addiction, but a long phase where I was crazy about singles & remixes- but only the sort of remixes that deconstruct a song and turn it into something amazing and new. I was bored with a simple extended dance remix, but something like this one... well, listen for yourself: Here's a video someone edited together to the remix. It's better if you close your eyes and simply listen.
To this day, hearing the original version of "Freedom 90" is a little jarring to me, because this is the one that I adore. I think I got the full length album Listen Without Prejudice, vol. 1 for Christmas and it was quite beautiful. It's even the sort of album that I think I appreciate more with time than I did when I was a 17 year old high school student. George's subsequent albums have had good moments, but usually left me cold. I remember liking his first solo album, Faith a lot when I had it on cassette. But Listen Without Prejudice is simply a perfect record.
Of all the ways that Michelle & Raul inspired me to expand my musical horizons, nothing was as big and lasting as the fact that they introduced me to the music of Aimee Mann and her band 'til tuesday. Of course I knew the band's big hit single from 1985, "Voices carry," but that was literally all I knew of 'til tuesday. However, Raul was quite obsessed with the band and played their music all the time. At least once a day when we'd hang out, we'd hear a bit of 'til tuesday. If not their music, then probably a reference to seeing them in concert. There was their debut, Voices Carry, a very 80s sounding album with that title track highlight, and the beautiful "You know the rest." Then there was their sophomore album, Welcome Home that had more of a singer/songwriter feel and a more organic sound. I loved "Coming up close" but I swear to God that "No one is watching you now" is one of the most beautiful songs ever that no one knows about. Please, please, please find it. Download it. Fall for it. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe it's just me, but that song... wow.
However, my favorite 'til tuesday album, and the one I think is undeniably their best, is their last: Everything's Different Now. On my 17th birthday, December 12, 1990, I celebrated with Michelle, Raul & Angie, by having dinner at Victoria Station in Dadeland Mall. One of the gifts they gave me was my very own copy of Everything's Different Now and it's still one of my all-time favorite albums. It may be my favorite album of all time. Even today, as much as I love all of Aimee Mann's solo stuff, if I could only bring one of her albums on that fabled desert island with me, I'd choose this one. From the jangle of guitars on the opening title track to the hopeful pop of "How can you give up?" it's filled with songs I never get tired of hearing. The beautiful "J for Jules" (about songwriter Jules Shear) and "The other end of the telescope" (a collaboration with Elvis Costello) are gorgeous, but my favorite shall always be track 5, "(believed you were) lucky." Back then, listening to Raul's cassettes over and over again, something about this music connected with me, Aimee Mann's lyrics were a major part of it, and I truly fell in love.
Only Everything's Different Now had been released in 1988 and it was now 1990 and 'til tuesday? They had broken up.
Later on I'll talk more about Aimee Mann, who went on to have a bit of a shaky solo career at first, thanks to record company troubles, only to end up becoming widely successful and critically acclaimed as an independent artist. I finally got to see Aimee play when my friend Shawn (another diehard 'til tuesday fan, who has performed onstage with Aimee a few times) invited me to Boston to see her play with the Boston Pops in June of 2006. It was an amazing experience, and so special to be able to see an all-time favorite in such a unique way.
My other close encounter with Aimee occurred at my job. In 2008, she took part in a series of events Barnes & Noble hosts called "Upstairs at the Square" - in which a musician and an author are interviewed and perform some of their work on stage together. When I found out that Aimee was taking part in the event, I freaked OUT. I made sure that I had my break at the right time and went upstairs. I had brought my special edition copy of her newest album, @#%&*! Smilers, to get signed. But I got stuck on my floor and wasn't able to punch out in time, so decided to pick up the CD after the event so I wouldn't miss seeing her play. Upstairs, she (and her collaborator Paul Bryan, who has a fantastic album out called Handcuff King) played and was a fantastic interview, despite an interviewer who always makes me think of a grade school teacher. There were so many people in the crowd, and as the event winded down and the line to get stuff signed formed, our fabulous events coordinator recruited my help in directing the line. It was surreal to be working the line while feet away from me was the woman who changed the way I listen to music, who had been singing the soundtrack of my life for 18 years- half of my life, literally. So surreal and so thrilling that I forgot my own CD and basked in the glow of the rest of the crowd, watching people get so excited about getting to see her, say hello. I didn't actually interact with her, though. What could I have possibly said that wouldn't have sounded like the words of a rambling fool?
I even have a 'til tuesday button that I wear on my name-tag at work. It was given to me by one of the sweetest guys ever, also named Rick, who I worked with in my old store's music department. It's one of my prized possessions, really.
Meanwhile, back in the 90s... That's me with Michelle the day of my high school graduation.
Michelle, Raul & Angie all got a place together in Fort Lauderdale, about 45 minutes away from Kendall. I had helped them move, in a very unreliable van that broke down at least twice. I knew that it would mean seeing them less and, as is usually the case, it ended up with me not seeing them at all. The last I remember hearing from them was when Michelle called to tell me that Raul had tried to kill himself. "He's gay," she told me. He had tried it before. He had become abusive towards Angie on one occasion. Years later, I met someone at work who had actually dated Raul. My friend was in high school at the time and in the end, Raul went psycho on him. I often wonder where Michelle is, because I connected the most with her. I miss her a lot. Even though my friendship with them lasted for only a year, a year and a half at most, it has so much to do with who I am today and I'll always be thankful for that. Most especially for my copy of Everything's Different Now.
Another song I remember in connection with Michelle & Raul was a mystery to me for years and years. All I remembered was a conversation in the car one night, parked in the lot at Kendall Town & Country. Maybe before a movie and probably after they'd been smoking: "Elvis needs boats! Elvis needs boats!" "Why does Elvis need boats?"
My lovely friend Miss Bank was able to tell me that the song was not "something by Buster Poindexter" as I suspected, but Mojo Nixon's "Elvis is everywhere." Have a nice Tuesday:
Maybe the most important musical revelation to me in the autumn of 1990, the beginning of my senior year in high school, was my first real obsession with a female singer/songwriter. It was Sinéad O'Connor, and the song that started it all was actually not even written by her, but by Prince. "Nothing compares 2 u" was a huge hit, with a a gorgeous music video and I truly loved it. I might not have ventured past the single if it weren't for a group of new and unlikely friends.
My stepfather at the time, Jerry, worked with a girl called Michelle; pale, dyed red hair, sweet and cool. One day she and her boyfriend, Raul had to drop by the house for some reason. We all sat around talking. I seem to remember complaining about this teacher I had - Dr. Lloyd? He was my humanities/creative writing teacher and was pretty feminine. I said some really homophobic things about him, which I now know is a pretty normal thing for someone in the closet full of internalized homophobia, etc. But despite me making a total ass out of myself, they still asked me if I wanted to go to the movies with them some time. I totally did because, to paraphrase Alabama in True Romance they were so cool! They had another friend, Angie, who joined us, riding to the movies in Raul's little yellow MG convertible, practically having to sit in Michelle's lap. It became my Friday nights for a while, going to the movies or just hanging out with them. They introduced me to thrift stores, hair dye and attempted to introduce me to marijuana. I remembered Nancy Reagan and just said no.
What I'm most thankful for is the fact that they introduced me to lots and lots of really good music. Sinéad, The Cure, Ofra Haza, Tracy Chapman and most importantly: 'til tuesday. [see track 19] I had been familiar with Sinéad's single and with Tracy Chapman's "Fast car," which was by then a couple of years old. Raul & Michelle had the Tracy Chapman album and played it a lot and it was just so beautiful that I couldn't stop listening. When I got my first CD player on my 16th birthday, they gave me Sinéad's I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got and Tracy Chapman, still two of the most perfect albums I have ever heard. Between that and 'til tuesday, my love for women who write and sing songs began in earnest. When anyone asks me what kind of music I listen to, I usually just sum up with "girls with guitars."
A few years ago, I decided that I would make an autobiographical mixtape of songs. I love music more than just about anything in the world (except for maybe movies), so many of my memories are connected to songs. Now in the age of itunes, I've turned these songs into the mother of all playlists and thought it might be fun to blog about the songs and the memories that go along with them.
