True Blue - Frankie Miller

True Blue - Frankie Miller

2:20

single, 1959

Written by Frankie Miller

This twangy country tune is written from the point of view of a guy looking for a good time.  He hits the honky-tonks, loves to dance and drink and love the ladies, and he has no intention of marrying.  "'Cause I was born in a cave, I was raised in a den / My chief occupation′s taking women from the men / I'm a true blue papa, gonna have a ball tonight."  I love the sly line "I want to love 'em all, kind of spread me around."  Miller's nasal vocal and the bass and guitar combo give this song a little bounce.  Leon Chappel recorded a song called "True Blue Papa" around 1950, but I don't know that song, and can't say if Miller's song is a response, a rip-off, or just a coincidence.  

Election Year Rag - Steve Goodman

Election Year Rag - Steve Goodman

2:02

single, 1979

Written by Steve Goodman

This song was commissioned by NPR.  It's a bouncy folk number that brings to mind the social observation of Loudon Wainwright, although the lyric here is fairly toothless, relying mostly on the those-wacky-politicians-whatcha-gonna do variety of commentary: "If you feel like you need a score card / Well, you really don't have to fuss / You know the winner's always somebody else / And the loser is always us."  From the perspective of 46 years later, it seems quaint, like DJ 3000 in the Simpsons.  "Those clowns in Congress did it again.  What a bunch of clowns!"

Rum and Coca-Cola - The Andrews Sisters

Rum and Coca-Cola - The Andrews Sisters

3:11

single, 1944
Crredited to Jeri Sullivan, Paul Baron and Morey Asterdam; written by Lionel Belasco and Lord Invader

The writing credit here has gotten nearly as much attention as the song itself. The melody was published by Venezuelan calypso composer Lionel Belasco, based on an earlier song titled "L'Année Passée".  The lyrics were written by Lord Invader, a Trinidadian musician born Rupert Grant.  Morey Amsterdam heard it when visiting the island, and thought he would claim it as his own, stripping away much of its social commentary in the process.  The original version blames American GIs for debauching the locals and breaking up families.  The writing credit was hardly the only controversy the song courted. Amsterdam's lyric did include some fairly racy passages for the time, written in the faux-pidgin placed in the mouths of the very white Andrews sisters: "From Chacachacare to Mono's Isle / Native girls all dance and smile / Help soldier celebrate his leave."  The Andrews recorded it in ten minutes, and had a big hit, despite the lyrics and the mention of both alcohol and a well-known brand, which made the song unsuitable for airplay on some radio stations.

Radar Gun - The Bottle Rockets

Radar Gun - The Bottle Rockets

3:16

The Brooklyn Side, 1994

Written by Brian Henneman

This roots rocker, built around a steady, pounding beat and a repeated, primitive guitar riff, is written from the point of view of a small-town police officer eager to hand out tickets.  The opening salvo of the lyrics tells us right off that the lines are delivered with irony, if not contempt: "Straight from twelfth grade into junior college / Buddy, buddy, buddy, I passed my exam / They're making me a law enforcement person / Got me a gun and a badge, I'm a man."  The town's sheriff and mayor are delighted that the "new pulse gun" is going to pay for things like stoplights, especially if the town is a speed trap ("50 down to 30, man oh man").  Fun fact: Rush Limbaugh used the riff on his execrable radio show, demonstrating once again that irony is lost on the conservative.  Was he aware that a Rockets song on the this same album, "Welfare Music," described him as an "angry fat man on the radio"?  Probably not.

Ghost Town - The Specials

Ghost Town - The Specials

3:39

single, 1981

Written by Jeffrey Dammers

Beginning with rising organ crescendos, followed by a middle Eastern sounding melody punctuated by horns, with a spooky Boris Pickett-like vocal, this ska song uses sound effects and ghost imagery to evoke the devastation of economic downturn and urban violence.  "All the clubs have been closed down / This place, is coming like a ghost town / Bands won't play no more / Too much fighting on the dance floor."  The last song recorded by the band's original lineup, it reflects not only the bitterness at recession and urban decay but also the internal conflicts that were tearing the group apart.

Can You Hear Me Now - Public Enemy

Can You Hear Me Now - Public Enemy

3:58
How You Sell Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul???, 2007

Written by Chuck D, Redman, and Gary G-Wiz

Through the early Oughts, PE continued to rock harder, to remain uncompromising and critical of their peers' submission to the Man's commercial-industrial complex, and to keep on preaching. They were still making music that didn't sound particularly interested in keeping up with the times, yet the beats didn't get dated and Chuck's voice never lost its power.  Sorry, but I feel I must quote in toto this peak street poetry-cum-statement of purpose: "Damn if I be some slave again / Got no fake-ass friends and no Timbs or rims / Sure 'nuff, got no designer names / And I never played no video games / I ain't got no diamond rings / No bling, and no minks and no two earrings / And no pimp glasses mugs or cups and things / Or whatever the hell they all be carryin'."  It's a rejection of conspicuous consumption, peer pressure, and pretty much everything that passes for success in the world they're railing against. Twenty years later, the sentiment hasn't exactly lost its relevance.

Carry Go Bring Come - The Skatalites

Carry Go Bring Come - The Skatalites

2:47

The Skatalite, 1969

Written by Justin Hinds, 1964?

This ska song, originally recorded by Justin Hinds and the Dominoes, is a warning to a woman getting herself a bad reputation with all her getting around.  The title phrase is a Jamaican expression meaning gossip.  "This carry go bring come, my dear, brings misery / You're going from home to home making disturbances / It's time you stopped doing those things, you old Jezebel."  Harsh words!  I admit ignorance as to whether the woman in question is a metaphor for some other representative of a larger system of oppression, like the British monarch or the wife of a prime minister.  If not, one might accuse the narrator of melodrama: "How long shall the wicked reign over my people?" he moans.

Come Go With Me - The Del-Vikings

Come Go With Me - The Del-Vikings

2:42

single, 1957

Written by Clarence Quick

I know this doo-wop song mainly from the Beach Boys cover.  It's a typical '50s come on lyrically, but what makes it special is the virtuosity of the vocals.  The lead rides over the overlapping voices of the "dum dum dee dee" chorus, with a wonderfully prominent bass underneath it all.  A break with horns and handclaps adds to the party atmosphere.  I thought the lyric "Come home with me / Way beyond the sea" was a nod to the Bobby Darin hit, but actually this song predates Darin's recording.

Commit a Crime - Howlin' Wolf

Commit a Crime - Howlin' Wolf

3:08

single, 1966

Written by Howlin' Wolf

There are tempestuous relationships, love-hate couples that fight like cat and dog only for the anger to inflame passion, and then there's just plain trouble.  In this blistering Chicago blues, the narrator's lady poisoned his coffee, put lye in his drinks.  He's at the breaking point.  "I'm gonna leave you, woman, before I commit a crime / You tried so hard to kill me / Woman, it was just not my time."  It's a menacing little stomper, driven by his gravelly growl, insistent guitar, and pounding rhythm.  Wolf sounds like he means every word of the warning.  This isn't a guy out of his mind with rage, but a man on the precipice of it.

Clay Pigeons - Blaze Foley

Clay Pigeons - Blaze Foley

3:00

Sittin' By the Road, 1989 (recorded c. 1983)

Written by Blaze Foley

Foley was a musician unknown by the larger public but revered by darlings like Townes Van Zant and Lucinda Williams.  John Prine recorded the song in a quiet, four-and-a-half minute version, but I vastly prefer this intimate session.  It's just Foley's deep, slightly ragged voice and his guitar, carrying a restless soul who wants to get on a Greyhound and leave his old life behind: "I'm tired of running round / Looking for answers to questions that I already know / I could build me a castle of memories / Just to have somewhere to go."  It's pure road warrior poetry.   Foley never released it; it was issued posthumously on this album, and the recording date is just a guess.  Foley was murdered under disputed circumstances way too young, leaving us only his stark, honest songs.