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.

Your Cheatin' Heart - Fats Domino

Your Cheatin' Heart - Fats Domino

2:08

Let the Four Winds Blow, 1961

Written by Hank Williams, 1952

Fats treats this classic country weeper with as much reverence as he can, taking it slow and easy on the vocal.  The piano and horn lines are jazzy but repetitive and muted, not the exuberant New Orleans sound he's known for.  Williams' lyric is full of wounded pride and barely concealed spite, which might seem at odds with Fats' easygoing demeanor, but for me, the combination works. 

Young Faith Healer - Rod Lacy

Young Faith Healer - Rod Lacy

2:50

Blacklung, 2007

Written by Rod Lacy?

This might be one of the most obscure songs I've featured on this blog, which is a shame, because Lacy has real talent.  Lacy, a New Mexico roots rocker, belts this bluesy number out with plenty of echo on the vocals, some dextrous finger-picking, and stomping percussion.  Lyrically, it calls out to someone apparently under the spell of a cult leader or scaremonger prophet.  "I'm sick and tired of waiting till tomorrow / What will you do when there's no one left to follow / I'm sick and tired of hearing about this other side / What will you do when you finally see you're alive / You're here now."

You Don't Know Me - Eddy Arnold

You Don't Know Me - Eddy Arnold

2:45

single, 1955

Written by Eddy Arnold and Cindy Walker

This slow vocal song is an early example of the friendzone song, in which the narrator pines for the object of his affection, who doesn't think of him that way ("To you I'm just a friend").  The man drags his feet and can only watch sadly as the lady in question goes with someone who has the confidence to talk: "For I never knew the art of making love / Though my heart aches with love for you / Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by."  Here, Arnold transitions from his earlier, twangier "Tennessee Plowboy" persona to a mellow, restrained baritone. His delivery is ruminative, mirroring the hesitant perspective of the narrator who watches from afar.  Soft, sweeping string sections and background vocals create a warm, tender atmosphere.