If I Lose - The Stanley Brothers & the Clinch Mountain Boys

If I Lose - The Stanley Brothers

2:08

single, 1961

Written by Ralph Stanley

Few songs look upon the gambling life with rosy optimism, but this droll bluegrass proves it can be done.  In it, the narrator begs his lady love to come back to him — not because he can't live without her, but because she has the deep pockets to bankroll his losses.  "If I lose a hundred dollars while I'm trying to win a dime / My baby she's got money all the time," he boasts.  He doesn't look at other girls; they don't have enough dough.  He's gambled all over town and lost every time, but "now that you're back dear, let's take another round."  Over some virtuoso banjo picking and a bright fiddle, and accompanied by some down home harmonies, Stanley belts out the lines with his nasal yelp.

If I Can Dream - Elvis Presley

If I Can Dream - Elvis Presley
3:09
Elvis, 1968
Written by Walter Earl Brown

This song was based on Martin Luther King's famous "I Have a Dream" speech and its passionate rendition by Elvis was partly inspired by King's assassination just two months earlier.  "If I can dream of a better land, where all my brothers walk hand in hand / Tell me why, oh why, oh why can't my dream come true?"  Presley delivers it like a man singing for redemption, his voice straining against the lush orchestration and gospel-style backing vocals.   The arrangement swells from quiet reflection — it bemoans a world "troubled by pain," shadowed by dark clouds — to an impassioned crescendo, mirroring the ache and aspiration in the lyrics.  It is said that Elvis never channeled so much grief and yearning into a song, and that after he recorded it, vowed he would never again sing a song he didn't believe in.

If Ever I Stray - Frank Turner

If Ever I Stray - Frank Turner

2:54

England Keep My Bones, 2011

Written by Frank Turner and Nigel Powell

In this rousing rocker, found on what I believe to be Turner's best album, Turner notes how life can kick us around and make things look unremittingly bleak, and that's when you're liable to call it quits: "When you've lost the fight, yeah, you've lost that hunger / To pull yourself through the day."  But then, he implores an unseen entity — maybe the invisible hand of friends and family in solidarity — to slap him around a bit if he ever loses faith.  Throw him in the English Channel until he sobers up and remembers his main tenet of life: "As long as I've got me a place to sleep / Clothes on my back and some food to eat / Then I can't ask for anything more." A psalm for the downtrodden and folk-rockin'.

I Don't Care If the Sun Don't Shine - Dean Martin

I Don't Care If the Sun Don't Shine - Dean Martin
1:57
single, 1950
Written by Mack David, 1949

This is a funny, playful song about how the narrator prefers the night time because that's when he gets to smooch his baby.  "I don't care if the sun don't shine / I get my loving in the evening time when I'm / With my baby."  It's a perfect song for Dean's carefree, swinging pubic persona.  His smooth, easy croon blends nicely with the big band and Dixie horns.  Fun fact: this song was written for the film Cinderella, but wasn't used in it.  Which makes sense, because it's just a shade risqué and doesn't really fit with the Disneyfied fairy tale tone of the film.

If It Don't Bleed - James McMurtry

If It Don't Bleed - James McMurtry

3:50

The Horses And the Hounds, 2021

Written by James McMurtry

McMurtry, son of the fabled novelist Larry McMurtry, is a master songwriter with his father's gift for vivid description and pathos. Here, he approaches aging with wry acceptance and dry humor. The narrator is a man who's lived hard and now faces his own decline: “I burned a lot of bridges and I dropped a lot of balls / It’s a wonder I can ever go back to any place I've been," he sings in a craggy deadpan. "Now it’s all I can do just to get out of bed / There's more in the mirror than there is up ahead." McMurtry's  voice is limited in range, but he's cultivated a barbed deadpan delivery that cuts straight through the sentimentality other writers might lean on.

Bulldog Skin - Guided By Voices

Bulldog Skin - Guided By Voices

3:00

Mag Earwhig!, 1997

Written by Robert Pollard

A song abut being tough on the outside, not letting the bastards grind you down.  "I crashed my nerve / I made it swerve / I made it back, was no big deal."  There's an off-key swagger to this rousing rocker, a sort of Guided by Stones going on.  Like a lot of GvB, it's abstruse and abrupt, in a way that in the hands of other bands might seem like a toss-off, but it has an infectious, lurching energy.

By the Spoonful - J.D. Short

By the Spoonful - J.D. Short

3:49

single, 1940??

Written by J.D. Short

I've never heard of him, but Short made records with Son House and Big Joe Williams, so he's the real deal.  (Also making him the real deal: a feud with another musician in which Short stabbed him and he shot Short's testicles off.)  This rollicking blues is a declaration of serious addiction, probably to a drug, but I guess it could metaphorically be about a loved one ("hit it all night long" could easily fit either interpretation).  But this guy, he'd kill his parents for a taste.  "It's all I crave, sugar, my babe, just a spoonful, spoonful / It's all I crave, sugar, my babe, carry me to my grave."  It's a catchy delta blues shuffle that picks up steam as it goes along, harmonica occasionally punctuating Short's vibrato-inflected voice.  I can only guess at the year released, information online on Short being scanty at best.

Big Idea - Ages And Ages

Big Idea - Ages And Ages

3:30

Divisionary, 2014

Written by Ages and Ages

This is a catchy singalong with handclaps and harmonies, a sort of secular chorale in the vein of The Polyphonic Spree.  The lyrics even have a similar sort of neo-hippie New Age optimism.  "All of my ins are on the outside / And I want you all to notice / 'Cause I have no will to hide."  It ends with triumphant voices over swelling piano lines.  This kind of Northwest feel-good indie warms the soul.

Burgundy Cars - Horace Greene

Burgundy Cars - Horace Greene

3:03

Early American Ice Cream, 2016

Written by Horace Greene

I don't know anything about this Wisconsin band, but I like the retro-ad vibe of their album cover.  They're billed as indie rock, but this particular song is a slinky groove, sliding around slick '70s funk riffs.  The lyrics contrast kids "with their burgundy cars and blacked-out windows down" with working people who pump gas and roam dangerous streets.  "Now the sun says sweat, and that's all he knows how to do / Work the finger 'til the bone shines through."

Betty And Dupree - Tia Blake

Betty And Dupree - Tia Blake

3:29

Folksongs And Ballads, 1971

Attributed to Blind Andrew Jenkins, 1925

This song's album was originally released only in France and sold very little, but was reissued in 2011 and rediscovered by a new generation.  The events in the song, a crime ballad, are based on a century-old true story.  On December 15, 1921, Frank DuPre robbed a jewelry store in Atlanta of an impressive diamond ring, which he gifted to his new girlfriend Betty Andrews. After evading the police for a few weeks, he got caught and was hanged the next year.  The press made a big deal of Betty's involvement, painting her as a gold digger who urged Frank on to larceny.  Blake's version presents a few barebones facts (including having Betty tell Frank to get her a  ring) in her sweet ethereal voice, with the last verse a failed reunion of the lovers in the "death house" reunion of the lovers, when Betty writes to the doomed man that "no one's gonna take your place."  Additional "fun" fact via Wikipedia: In 1960, during a custody dispute, Blake and her siblings were kidnapped by her CIA-employed father, who was later arrested and fled the country.  She should have written a song about that!  (I think she did write about it, in Granta.)

King Of the World - First Aid Kit

King Of the World - First Aid Kit

3:38

The Lion's Roar, 2012

Written by Klara Söderberg, Johanna Söderberg, and Conor Oberst

It's pure Americana folk and I could swear there's a Texas twang, but First Aid Kit is a duo of Swedish sisters.  On this song, they're accompanied by co-writer Conor Oberst, who provides a verse; his cutting, tremulous voice is a terrific complement to their confident, pure harmonies.  With hand percussion, a Latin-infused horn section, and lilting keyboards, it's a catchy, rollicking ride.  The rather abstruse lyrics hint at a narrator wanting to find meaning of an often overwhelming world filled with people, all of whom are finding their own way: "Tell me something real / Tell me something true / I just want to feel there's something left that I can do."

Kansas City – Wilbert Harrison

Kansas City – Wilbert Harrison

2:30

single, 1959

written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, 1952

This song, of course, has been covered by everyone, but I am somewhat surprised to find that it's a Leiber and Stoller number, written by two white guys and not a traditional or from the guitar of some old bluesman.   Harrison's version is an unhurried shuffle with a sparse guitar solo in the center.  His voice is unprepossessing and charming; he means what he says, but he isn't going wild about it.  Harrison pioneered the line "They got some crazy little women there, and I'm gonna get me one," which wasn't in the original.

Key To the Highway - Big Bill Broonzy

Key To the Highway - Big Bill Broonzy

2:35

single, 1941

Attributed to Charlie Segar and Big Bill Broonzy

The authorship of this song is disputed, but Broonzy's arrangement has become standard.  It's a languid eight-bar blues about an itinerant bluesman who leaves his lover to get on the road.  Now, here is the problem, and it's reminiscent of my issue with "Last Night" by Little Walter.  Spotify has two versions of this song by Big Bill.  One is 3:03, has a lot of vinyl crackle, and features a deeper vocal, washboard and harmonica.  This seems like it might be the 1941 session.  The other one, the shorter version that I'm featuring on this post, is accompanied mostly by guitar, the singer draws out the "yeeesss" at the start of several lines, and has different lyrics.  Is this song even Broonzy?  It sounds too clean to be from 1941. If it is him, it's got to be a later recording.  Am I listening to a lie??  Oh well, I prefer it.

Know Your Onion! - The Shins

Know Your Onion! - The Shins

2:29

Oh, Inverted World, 2001

Written by James Mercer

A indie pop song with a bright, open sound and a Kinks-like melody, if Ray Davies had flooded his songs with keyboards and harmonium.  The lyrics sketch a shy introvert keeping his head down amid a world of loud, aggressive people. "The songs that I heard / The occasional book / Were the only fun I ever took," Mercer sings, his high yelp half-submerged in the mix, which maybe fits with the theme of the song.   The song's optimism outlook despite the odds ("But when they're parking their cars on your chest / You've still got a view of the summer sky") keeps it from being an emo pity party, and rather a small anthem for anyone who ever survived adolescence through music and imagination alone.

Kiss With a Fist - Florence + the Machine

Kiss With a Fist - Florence + the Machine

2:03

Lungs, 2009

Written by Florence Welch and Matt Alchin

With its rattling garage-rock tempo and the confrontational chorus "You hit me once / I hit you back / You gave a kick / I gave a slap / You smashed a plate over my head / Then I set fire to our bed," one would be forgiven for immediately assuming this song is a depiction of mutual domestic violence.  However, Florence Welch herself clarified that the song is "about two people pushing each other to psychological extremes because they are fighting but they still love each other."  The over-the-top blows, in other words, are purely metaphorical.  The line "a kiss with a fist is better than none" seems to express an endorsement, not of violence, but of an animal passion that may not be healthy, but has an undeniable allure.

Tell Me Why - Brian Wilson

Tell Me Why - Brian Wilson

3:40

No Pier Pressure, 2015

Written by Brian Wilson and Joe Thomas

This ends, for now, this blog's tribute to Brian Wilson, RIP.  This song is not the Beatles song, also covered by the Beach Boys.  A conclusion I've to from this perforce hasty and superficial tour of Wilson's solo work is that generally the quality isn't as high as in the Beach Boys days (but isn't that true of nearly every aging performer), and that as he gets older he eschews those uptempo overlapping harmonies that I love for measured, orchestral ballads.  On this song, accompanied by Al Jardine on the choruses, Wilson sings of something lost.  It could be lover or a friend, or maybe, if you squint a bit, the halcyon days of a band.  "I think about that ocean view / And all the dreams I shared with you / I guess they won't be coming true / At least for you and me / But now you're gone and I've gotta get on with my life."

My Hobo Heart - Brian Wilson and Van Dyke Parks

My Hobo Heart - Brian Wilson and Van Dyke Parks

3:16

Orange Crate Art, 1995

Written by Van Dyke Parks

The narrator of this song had a girl in every town, like a sailor but for land.  Like Dion's Wanderer, he found new ladies wherever he went.  But!  He met someone who changed all that.  "And now my travelin' days are through / And ridin' horses in the sand / Or walkin' with you hand in hand will do."  The song doesn't extol the praises of the girl in question or say why he changed; it's not exactly an introspective song.  Parks' and Wilson's harmonies are nice, if a bit sleepy.

Too Much Sugar - Brian Wilson

Too Much Sugar - Brian Wilson

2:38

Brian Wilson, 1988 [2000 expanded version]

Written by Brian Wilson

This is one of Wilson's silly-yet-earnest songs about daily life or health, like "Vega-Tables."  Moving between a deep register to those soaring falsettos, Wilson lectures us about sugar and its effects.  "Stuff you eat can poison you / Make you feel real lazy too," he advises, telling the listener to avoid not just sugar but fats, and to get exercise "just like Jane Fonda."  Everyone can appreciate cutting back on sweets when it's wrapped in those honeyed harmonies!

Let It Shine - Brian Wilson

Let It Shine - Brian Wilson

3:58

Brian Wilson, 1988

Written by Brian Wilson and Jeff Lynne

Brian Wilson died yesterday, and thus one of the brightest lights in pop is dimmed.  There have been other taskmasters and perfectionists, but probably none so maniacal, fastidious, and endearingly oddball as Wilson.  This song, case in point, is sort of like a love song, but the lyrics could also be taken as an epiphany, or moving from one field of consciousness to another — maybe fitting for this occasion.  "The stars all send / Their silver light to me / Forever shine / On me eternally."  Yes, this song's production is all ice and synth percussion, but the gospel chorus and positive vibes give it enough warmth.

Just Rocking - Big Bill Broonzy

Just Rocking - Big Bill Broonzy

2:40

single, 1949

Written by Big Bill Broonzy

This is a fine example of postwar bawdy blues, in which "rocking" is a clear euphemism for, well, let's let Big Bill tell it with his genial good humor: "Me and my baby, we knows what's it all about / We start in in the hall / We don't wait until we get in the house / We love to rock at night / And we feel the same way every day."  Accompanied by a bopping saxophone, piano, and drums, the song chugs along, perhaps restrained compared to similarly-themed rockabilly of a decade later, but the spirit is the same—grinning, rhythmic, and built to make you move.

Jug Band Music - Lucinda Williams

Jug Band Music - Lucinda Williams

2:27

Ramblin' On My Mind, 1979

Written by Will Shade, c. 1927-1930?

I thought that this song, from Williams' debut album, might be a cover of the sublime Lovin' Spoonful song of the same name, but it's not.  It is, however, a cover.  I could not find any solid information about the original, but it seems clear that it was performed by the Memphis Jug Band, a band that performed from the late 1920s to the 1950s.  Like the Spoonful song, it's a celebration of the music itself, a tribute to the communal, homemade joy of jug-band sound.  "Well, I went to my man, put my hand on his knee / Said, 'If you can't play the jug, you can't play with me.'"  Williams' voice here is younger, rounder, and less weathered than the drawl we'd come to know; her strummed 12-string and the easy shuffle of the arrangement make it feel like a front-porch party recorded in one take, an affectionate nod to a vanished era that suits her perfectly.

Juke Joint Johnny - Lattie Moore

Juke Joint Johnny - Lattie Moore
2:04
single, 1952
Written by Lattie Moore

This song is an early rockabilly, leaning heavily on the honky honk hillbilly side — it's a lot more Lefty Frizzell than Eddie Cochran.  It's where Hank Williams and Jerry Lee Lewis meet, all bending guitar lines and metronome percussion.  In the song, the narrator boasts about dancing and playing and juking and scoring (with the ladies).  Despite the title, Moore doesn't say "juke joint" except in the chorus; he says "juke box" throughout.  "Cause I'm a juke box Johnny, yeah now watch me go / Well I'm a juke box Johnny and baby you're steppin' too slow."

Johnny Todd - Bob Dylan & the Band

Johnny Todd - Bob Dylan & the Band

2:05

The Bootleg Series Vol. 11: The Basement Tapes Complete, 2014 (recorded 1967)

traditional

This is a 19th century morality tale about a sailor who goes off to sea only to find that his love has married another fast-talking sailor who promises her "golden blankets" and a wedding ring.  "All you men who go a-sailing / For to fight the foreign foe / Don't leave your love like Johnny / Marry her before you go."  Over a drunken carnival piano line, Dylan sings it with a wink, playing the story straight but not exactly with reverence. 

Jack Rabbit - Elton John

Jack Rabbit - Elton John

1:53

single, 1973

Written by Elton John and Bernie Taupin

This song, a brisk country rocker, was released as the B-side to "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting."  The song apostrophizes the titular rabbit, who is racing around enjoying himself, while danger looms at every corner.  "Go jack-rabbit running through the woods / You had a good night and you feel real loose / Gunfire breaking up the peaceful night / Jack-rabbit lying in the cold daylight."  The tone is deceptively light, but carpe diem and memento mori, everybody; Taupin’s rustic imagery and Elton’s galloping piano make it feel like a fable in which carefree sport turns to tragedy.  Et in Arcadio ego and all that. 

A Jackknife To a Swan - Mighty Mighty Bosstones

A Jackknife To a Swan - Mighty Mighty Bosstones
2:48
A Jackknife To a Swan, 2002
Written by Dicky Barrett, Tim Burton, Joe Gittleman

More rock than ska at this point in their career, the Bosstones here serve up a grim tale of urban violence, in which a woman is burned to death and a man, fleeing some predatory group of men, apparently runs into the path of a train.  The title evokes two types of diving, but the story makes the image more literal and visceral, as a harmless life is brutalized.  Apparently the events in the song are based on a real life incident in Boston, which (if true) makes me wonder why Barrett doesn't sound angrier.

San Francisco Bay Blues - Richie Havens

San Francisco Bay Blues - Richie Havens

2:30

Mixed Bag, 1966

Written by Jesse Fuller, 1954

It is my opinion that nobody, save Bob Dylan perhaps, takes on a song like Richie Havens.  His takes on "Ol' 55" and "Here Comes the Sun," among others, ought to be up there with the definitive takes.  This song I know from the live version Eric Clapton released on his Unplugged album.  This version, from Havens' debut album, is (in comparison to Clapton's sprightly take) a low, slow lament, better fitting the song: "She said goodbye, and she made me cry / I want to lay down and die."

Six More Miles (To the Graveyard) - Hank Williams

Six More Miles (To the Graveyard) - Hank Williams
2:47
single, 1948
Written by Hank Williams

The narrator of this cowboy lament is on his way to meet the train that carries his dead love.  "Oh I hear that train a comin' / Bringin' my darling back home / Six more miles to the graveyard / Never on this earth no more to roam."  There's a pure honky-tonk sound here, the guitars slapping like percussion and Williams lingering over the syllables like a yodeler — and yet it also perfectly captures an eerie, hushed feeling of gloom.  Somehow Williams could do it all.

Suzie Chapstick - Green Day

Suzie Chapstick - Green Day

3:16

Saviors, 2024

Written by Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt, and Tré Cool

As the lads in Green Day age, their sharp edges grow softer.  This song could be from Weezer or Fountains of Wayne, or even late 1960s love song (without the Instagram mention).  It's a brooding, gentle pop number, bemoaning a lost love.  "Will you dedicate a song to me? / Do you want me to just go away / I just want to be your nobody / Is there any chance that I can stay?"  It's a perfectly pleasant pop-rock song, but for those of us who discovered Green Day through Kerplunk in the early 1990s, it's hard not to wonder what those snotty, angsty lads would think of this glossy sweetness. 

Sweet Wanomi - Bill Withers

Sweet Wanomi - Bill Withers

2:32

Just As I Am, 1971

Written by Bill Withers

This is a gentle folk-soul ballad of devotion that paints a picture of domestic happiness in an unhurried baritone ("In a room with soft satin pillows / Cracklin' fireplace keeps us warm").  There's none of the grandiose praise or feverish infatuation found in so many soul or rock love songs, just a depiction of serene, quotidian moments between two people enjoying each other's presence.  "In a soft light, her eyes are gleaming / Pretty little hand covers up her mouth when she yawns."  It's hard to believe that this mature, restrained song came from a young man on his debut album, just as it's hard to believe that later he would walk away from it all when he had so much talent.

Still Standing - Michael Franti & Spearhead

Still Standing - Michael Franti & Spearhead

3:46

Soulrocker, 2016

Written by Michael Franti

Ever since Franti settled into his post-political message of peace, love, and good vibes through proud, individualistic strength (a transformation that was certainly earned, not calculated), he hasn't deviated much.  It's easy to dismiss, perhaps, his insistence on remaining optimistic amid struggle and suffering, but his sincerity can't be doubted.  Much of his material is hard-hitting and passionate, but here Franti seems a bit tired.  The production is flat, the vocals are desultory, and there's nothing of the agitpop fury of the Disposable Heroes days.  I don't think it's a bad song, but it's just a little too comfortable, and I expected more.