Last weekend, I re-watched Ross McElwee’s “Time Indefinite.” I first watched it three years ago after seeing and loving “Sherman’s March,” not really expecting to enjoy it as much. However, I found it to be a perfect companion to/continuation of “Sherman’s March,” and one of the best meditations on life, death, love, family, and metaphysical angst made in any medium. Watching it today, I was reminded that the middle chunk of the film is almost punishing in its bleakness, but is bookended by sections filled with love, new life, and hope. It’s one of those special pieces of art that, if you are willing to invest in, will cause you to give pause for thought.

I started this blog as a place to write about music and movies. However, I’ve had a hard time doing that lately. I considered letting the blog fade into oblivion by not adding anything to it, and keeping it only as a document of a certain time. I originally wanted to write about pop culture because I knew freewheeling blogs were less likely to get traffic, so having a particular focus was necessary. But what I realized while watching “Time Indefinite,” was that my most pressing interest in pop culture is the same as my most pressing interest in general: that of gaining a deeper awareness of things and feeling more alive/in the moment. Sometimes I get these feelings from reading a book, watching a movie, going to a concert, or other things that fall under the pop culture umbrella, but these are not the only avenues I’ve searched. So although pop culture will probably always be written about here, I also want to comment on religion, food, science, existential concerns, and other things. I’d also like to write some long-form personal essays from time to time.

Hopefully this change will help me to write here more often.

Thanks for reading.

1. “Castor, the Twin” by Dessa

2. “No Kings” by Doomtree 

3. “A Creature I Don’t Know” by Laura Marling 

4. “So Beautiful or So What” by Paul Simon 

Albums I like that I haven’t listened to more than a couple of times yet:

“Civillian” by Wye Oak

“David Comes to Life” by Fucked Up

“Strange Mercy” by St. Vincent 

“Hell on Heels” by Pistol Annies

“Days” by Real Estate 

“Bad As Me” by Tom Waits 

Favorite Songs from albums not listed (no order):

“Tree by the River” by Iron & Wine 

“Change the Sheets” by Kathleen Edwards (album out in 2012)

“She’s Enough” by Atmosphere 

“Tigers” by Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks 

“Jejune Stars” by Bright Eyes

“Silver Zephyrs” by Haley Bonar 

“Heartbreaker” by Girls (Actually Nov. 2010 release, but I don’t think I heard it in time to make my 2010 list)

“Time Spent In Los Angeles” by Dawes 

“Helplessness  Blues” by Fleet Foxes 

“Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People 

“Someone Like You” by Adele 

“I Follow Rivers” by Lykke Li

“Me, Me, Me” by Middle Brother 

“Get Away” by Yuck 

“The Walk” by Mayer Hawthorne 

“The Breakup” by The Rural Alberta Advantage 

“Holocene” by Bon Iver 

“Love Shines” by Ron Sexsmith 

“Calamity Song” by The Decemberists 

Favorite movies post to come, however, I just realized there were a lot of movies I wanted to see but haven’t gotten around to yet.

I’m not going to pretend this is an unbiased account. I asked my mom for Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits Vol. 1 &2 cassette when I was 7, because I had worn out a read-along book/cassette combo based on Disney’s “Oliver & Company” that included Joel’s “Why Should I Worry” at the end.

This is not one of the songs that I’m going to include in my sixteen-song thesis arguing for a reevaluation, but it is important I mention it for the personal aspect of this essay. I think all the name-checking of New York City locales, like Central Park, the Bowery, the Chelsea Hotel, et cetera, along with using words and phrases I didn’t understand (but sounded cool) like “syncopated” and “savoir-faire,” all seemed exotic to a kid growing up on a farm in rural Wisconsin. The mythology of New York City was already starting to form in my mind thanks to Billy Joel, the televised Macy’s Day Parade, and the recent release of Home Alone 2, all making me wonder what it would be like to wake up and look out my window and see skyscrapers instead of silos. Although I did not actually see “Oliver & Company” until years later, I knew that Joel was singing as Dodger: the shaggily-cool, sunglasses-wearing, streetwise dog, which I’m sure only added to his appeal. I think I probably thought that if Joel was voicing this character it must have been an animalized-version of his actual persona, and I think that’s always been how Billy Joel has seen himself.

Which I think gets to the heart of what is both most endearing and most frustrating about Billy Joel. He’s like that friend who is always trying really hard to be cool and earn your respect by doing the things he thinks will help him achieve that, but gets so much closer to realizing those goals when he isn’t. Five years ago, Joel released a box-set called “My Lives,” which he seemed to think would finally garner the critical acclaim he thought he deserved. In the liner notes, Joel wrote, “People who just know Billy Joel from Top 40 singles may not like Billy Joel, and I can’t say I necessarily blame them. I don’t think that really represents the sum and substance of my work.” As stated above, I agree with him. However, instead of going through all his albums and b-sides and paring that down to one disc of his best overlooked songs, he uses it to dump echo-y demos, uninspired covers, and a few (mostly terrible) songs from his early rock bands: The Lost Souls, The Hassles, and Attila.

“My Lives” is probably great for die-hard fans who always wanted to hear these things, and get a sense of the trajectory Joel’s music took, but instead of acting as a defense to the current critical recognition of his work, it turns out to be (mostly) a validation of it. It’s another attempt by Joel to make a grand statement, but Joel is not good at making grand statements. He’s at his best when capturing small moments about things he knows without too much extraneous commentary through songs influenced by Tin Pan Alley songwriters, old Phil Spector records, or The Beatles.

In Stephen Thomas Erlewine’s review of Joel’s album, “The Nylon Curtain,” Erlewine writes, “Joel is naturally inclined to write big melodies like McCartney, but he idolizes Lennon, which makes The Nylon Curtain a fascinating cross between ear candy and social commentary.” The melodicism part is spot-on, and Joel does sometimes attempt to write the kind of social commentary Lennon often tried his hand at. However, I think the comparison is a more apt one than Erlewine lets on. Lennon suffered from a similar problem as Joel, his political songs were not very good. Lennon’s were often idealistic without any real solutions or insights offered, or were reactionary and shallow. Lennon tried to be Bob Dylan, but failed miserably. Joel tried to be Lennon, and largely succeeded in that, but in doing so, still generally failed to write good political songs.

But enough has been written and said about Billy Joel’s weaknesses. Let’s get to his strengths by going directly to his songs. I have compiled a 16 song mix that I believe makes a good case for Joel. It probably won’t sway any haters, or anyone who doesn’t like 60s-70s pop music, but I think by focusing on his actual strengths as opposed to what he thinks his strengths should be, a much more accurate assessment of his talent emerges.

I chose to skip Joel’s first three studio albums, “Cold Spring Harbor,” “Piano Man,” and “Streetlife Serenade,” because they are very hit and miss (mostly miss) and I don’t think Joel had found his voice yet, in songwriting or singing. Yes, that does mean I am skipping over the title track from “Piano Man,” potentially his best-known song, not because it isn’t good, the melody is great, I just don’t think it’s one of his sixteen best.

1. Say Goodbye to Hollywood

“Say Goodbye to Hollywood” opens “Turnstiles,” Joel’s first truly great album, with a renewed sense of purpose. Joel had spent the previous three years living in Los Angeles, and hated it. In 1975-1976, he moved back to New York, and “Turnstiles” was a celebration of that. “Say Goodbye to Hollywood” is a kiss-off to Los Angeles with a great Phil Spector-influenced sound. The version I have posted above is actually a live version from Joel’s 1981 album “Songs In The Attic,” because I think the energy is higher and the vocals are better.

2. New York State of Mind

“New York State of Mind” is a relaxed, feels-good-to-be-home song, also from “Turnstiles.” Listening to it is like slipping into a comfortable robe, and drinking your morning cup of coffee while watching all the black and white shots of New York from Woody Allen’s “Manhattan.”

3. Summer, Highland Falls

Another track from “Turnstiles,” “Summer, Highland Falls” is a lovely nostalgic ballad. It’s almost ruined by the horns that come in around the 1:52 mark, but it was the mid-seventies, so I forgive him for not just playing that same part on his piano, people were putting strings and horns in all sorts of places they didn’t belong back then. Strings and horns were to the seventies what synthesizers and over-production were to the 80s.

4. I’ve Loved These Days

The last “Turnstiles” track I’ve included on this list. The melody for this one is simple but very effective, potentially my favorite of any of Joel’s melodies. The arrangements on this one are very nice, there are the 70s strings, but they’re subdued, not distracting. The vocals sound great. The lyrics to this one aren’t my favorite, basically stating “we’ve been living the high life, and though that’s obviously not sustainable, boy if it wasn’t fun while it lasted!” But oh that melody!

5. The Stranger

This and the next four tracks all come from Joel’s 1977 album, “The Stranger.” It’s the first of Joel’s records produced by Phil Ramone who continued to produce all of Joel’s records until 1989′s “Storm Front.”

6. Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)

In middle school, I tried getting one of my friends who had grown up listening to the harder side of 60s and 70s rock into Billy Joel. It never fully caught on, and I remember the “heart attack-ack-ack” part of this song being one of the aspects he singled out as a reason he could not fully embrace Joel’s music, although I don’t know how it’s much different than The Who stuttering out muh-muh-muh-muh generation, and he never took issue with that.

7. Only the Good Die Young

This is another pretty ubiquitous song of Joel’s, but it remains one of my favorites. Having never heard the saying the title gets its name from when I first heard of it at the age of seven, it scared me a little, being a relatively well-behaved Catholic kid with an prematurely high sense of his own mortality. However, it eventually drew me in with the hand-claps and tough guy posturing.

8. She’s Always A Woman

Some people have complained about a supposed latent streak of misogyny running through this track. And there sort of is one, however, after enduring the unbelievable schmaltz of “Just The Way You Are” four songs earlier on “The Stranger,” a little latent misogyny is welcome because at least Joel sounds like he means what he’s singing on this track, and it’s not saturated with bad saxophone, just a flute buried pretty deep in the mix that only appears briefly.

9. Vienna

A song about not giving up on your dreams, using Vienna as a sort of Shangri-La. With a great accordion break at the two minute mark, accentuating the dreamy European feel of the song.

I’ve also decided to bypass Joel’s 1978 release, “52nd Street,” because although it did produce some hits, I don’t think any of them are as good as the other songs in this defense.

10. You May Be Right

“You May Be Right” opens the album with the sound of breaking glass. This is supposed to be an indication that Joel did throw the stone at the glass house he was standing in front of on the cover. It is also supposed to signify that this is a new Billy Joel, a harder-edged one. “Glass Houses” is Joel’s response to the popularity of punk rock and new wave. Though it never gets close to actual punk rock, it contains some of Joel’s harder songs. However, the hard rock edges are often sanded down by Joel’s big poppy melodies and clean arrangements, but you cannot fault a man for doing what he does best. “Glass Houses” may not have achieved exactly what Joel was going for, but it did turn out to be one of his most enjoyable records.

11. It’s Still Rock & Roll to Me

Another track from “Glass Houses,” “It’s Still Rock & Roll to Me” was my favorite song when I was eight. The ironic thing about this song is that it was obviously more influenced by new wave/punk than old rock & roll, sounding more Elvis Costello than Elvis Presley. Although a more apt comparison might be the poppier songs from Joe Jackson’s “Look Sharp!,” released the previous year.

12. Don’t Ask Me Why

In some ways, “Don’t Ask Me Why” is an average breezy pop song, but there are a few flourishes that elevate it to something a little more interesting: The bridge from 1:06-1:25 improves upon the relatively ho-hum melody of the rest of the song, the instrumental break from 1:54-2:14 with Joel’s always excellent piano-playing, a quietly strummed acoustic guitar, a ratchet, well-placed hand-claps, and the vocal oohs from 2:32-2:40 add nice texture to the song, resulting in one of my favorite Joel arrangements.

13. She’s Got A Way

“She’s Got A Way” was originally released on Joel’s first record, 1971′s “Cold Spring Harbor,” but due to some mixing issues, and the overall spottiness of that record, most Joel fans did not hear it until he included a live recording of it on his excellent live album, “Songs In The Attic,” ten years later. “Songs In The Attic” takes songs from his pre-”The Stranger” output that people may have missed out on. Earlier, I included the “SITA” version of “Say Goodbye to Hollywood,” because I think it’s a stronger performance. The same can be said for most of the songs included on the album. Some of the pre-”Turnstiles” material still suffers due to some of Joel’s lyrical missteps and clumsy attempts at different styles of music, but the above version of “She’s Got A Way” is an understated performance of a sweet, simple, love song, and the songs from “Turnstiles” all get really nice re-workings in a live setting with a little more warmth and vigor.

14. Allentown

“Allentown” is the opening cut from 1982′s “The Nylon Curtain,” the troubles of which I touched upon earlier in the essay. “The Nylon Curtain” was supposed to be Billy Joel’s ambitious, mature, and politically aware record, but as mentioned earlier, those things do not match up with his strengths as a songwriter. “Allentown,” however, is easily Joel’s best political song. Equal parts baby-boomer anger and the disenfranchised feeling of living in a rust belt town in the early 1970s when all the factories started closing, the war in Vietnam was still raging, and the promise of the American Dream was beginning to seem more elusive every day. The song’s realism is aided by the lack of “All You Need Is Love”-esque idealism in the lyrics, and a chugging melody supplemented with anvil percussion echoing the sounds of factory work.

15. Laura

“Laura” is the second song on “The Nylon Curtain,” and the only other track on the album I believe worthy of defending. It’s a Beatles-esque tune about a relationship (perhaps familial) that is no good for him, but he can’t break. It’s one of those songs that get to the core of who Joel’s musical persona is. He wants to be loved and respected, and he tries his best to get those things, but it generally doesn’t work out for him. It’s an angry song: some vocals that get as close to screaming as Joel ever does and his only song to use a certain strong expletive, but also a resigned one: ending the song with, “How do you hang up on someone who needs you that bad?” and the return of the timid, tiptoeing piano riff from the song’s start.

16. Tell Her About It

After “The Nylon Curtain” was not as well received as previous efforts, Joel decided to make his next record a fun one. “An Innocent Man” was just that. “Tell Her About It” is a catchy, soulful, peppy tune that embodies the best qualities of the album as a whole and distills it into a a four minute pop song. I first heard this song at a very young age and took, what I thought to be, the message to heart. Which resulted in awkward situations where I told girls how I felt about them too soon a few too many times between middle school and the first couple years of college. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to take relationship advice from someone whose relationships never seem to work out, but live and learn, I guess.

On the downside, although “An Innocent Man” proved very popular, it was the beginning of the end for Joel, and where I’ve chosen to end this essay. I’ve decided not to include anything post-”An Innocent Man.” The albums afterwards (“The Bridge,” “Storm Front,” and “River of Dreams”) all have at least one highlight, but I don’t think any of them would be of any use in swaying someone who didn’t already like Joel’s music, because they are mostly mired in the trappings that Joel often falls into, whether that means trying to make grand statements, attempting styles that don’t work, or lyrical clumsiness.

However, I believe in this 16-song selection, and will defend it to my grave. Sure his output started off a little shaky, and ended the same way, but he’s hardly alone in that. Many other musicians whose careers have followed similar trajectories have somehow managed to maintain much more positive critical standings, and I don’t think that’s very fair. I think it’s time we reevaluate Billy Joel, focusing not on his shortcomings, but on his strengths, I think he deserves at least that.

The desires and fears of a child are more primal and instinctual, less intellectual and petty, and therefore more universal than those of an adult. Children cannot always relate to art made for adults, but I think any art done from the perspective of a child that is done well, should seem instantly familiar to even the most hard-hearted adult.

Experiencing this art should make a person feel like Anton Ego when he bites into Remy’s ratatouille. (From the 0:20 mark to 1:02.)

It should make you remember the experiences and feelings from childhood you thought you forgot, and feel them just as intensely as you did back then.

What I’d really like to get at in this post (and in a future post about animated films) is the difference between some of the drek that passes as children’s entertainment, and the timeless classics that children and adults either have been watching or will continue to watch for years to come. Luckily, one crudely-animated, instantly-dated-pop-culture-reference-spewing, innuendo-laden, franchise was kind enough to have its name rhyme with the category it falls under.

Here are my favorite live-action movies featuring child protagonists:

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Not recommended for most children under 9 or 10, Disney’s adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s classic novel is certainly frightening at times, but at its core has a beautiful message of the power of familial love, and magnificent performances by Jonathan Pryce and Jason Robards.

Son of Rambow

Though rated PG-13 for “Reckless Behavior and Some Violence,” I think this movie would be fine for children 10 and up. The story of two English boys from very different families who forge a friendship based on their mutual love of a bootleg copy of “First Blood.” It touches on topics ranging from religion, family, and overcoming differences; but is mostly about the magic of movies and what it means to be a true friend.

Millions

Another British film about two young boys that made me cry like a baby. “Millions” was directed by Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire) and is about a pair of brothers who recently lost their mother. The main character, Damian, is a highly imaginative child with an encyclopedic knowledge of The Lives of the Saints, and a propensity for doing good. It is filled with wonderful visuals, and a story that deals with grief, religion, greed, charity, miracles, brotherhood, and much more.

The Kid

Children and adults alike will love Jackie Coogan as the titular kid, and the scheming he and Chaplin do together. “The Kid” is only 50 minutes long, and endlessly funny and touching, so it is a good introduction to Chaplin and the worlds of silent and black and white film.

Paper Moon

Another black and white film, “Paper Moon” stars Ryan and Tatum O’Neal (real life father and daughter) as a con man and his “daughter.” On the road during the depression, they try to sell Bibles to recent widows. Ryan O’Neal may have outed himself as a real jerk over the past few years, but he’s great in this, and Tatum O’Neal is even better as a precocious tomboy.

The 400 Blows (Les quatre cent coups)

Now that your child is used to black and white movies, and had to read the title cards in “The Kid,” why not try for a classic of world cinema, François Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows.” It is the first film in the Antoine Doinel series, and Truffaut’s first full-length. It follows Antoine on adventures getting in trouble at school, cutting class to roam the streets of Paris, listening to his parents argue about him, and eventually getting sent away. It’s funny, sad, beautiful, and feels true. Through it was filmed over fifty years ago, most children, especially boys 10-15 years old, will still be able to relate.

Small Change L’argent de poche

L’argent de poche or “Small Change” is another great film about children by François Truffaut, that is even more accessible than “The 400 Blows,” since there are children of all ages in it, and it’s in color. Very funny, very touching, very real, I cannot imagine someone not liking this.

The City of Lost Children

Another French film, this is probably my riskiest pick because it carries an “R” rating. It is frightening at times, and I believe there might be some nudity, but at its base it’s a fairy-tale. Children who are drawn to the fantastical, scary, and slightly strange will enjoy it. “The City of Lost Children” is by Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie, Delicatessen) French cinema’s answer to Terry Gilliam, except Jeunet is better at sustaining storylines. It deals with scary subject matter, such as the stealing of dreams, and has plenty of nightmare-worthy visuals, but kids can handle a lot of that much better than adults often think. Watch it for yourselves first, and make your own decisions, but I think there is definitely an audience of older children who would completely fall in love with this film.

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory

Forget Tim Burton’s version that is supposedly more faithful to Roald Dahl’s original children’s book. What I’ve learned about Roald Dahl is that the movie adaptations of his books are generally better than the books, I think the original Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory exemplifies that, as does the next movie on this list, and Wes Anderson’s recent take on “The Fantastic Mr. Fox.” This is another movie that tends to scare some children and some adults, but as you’ve probably learned by now, I think children’s movies that have some scary elements to them are often exponentially better than those that try to gloss frightening things over. “Willy Wonka” remains very funny, slightly strange, and always enjoyable. Gene Wilder will forever be Willy Wonka.

“The Witches”

As promised, another Roald Dahl adaptation. “The Witches” was directed by Nicholas Roeg (Walkabout, The Man Who Fell To Earth) with creatures and special effects by Jim Henson. The main child actor is not great, but the story is, especially the beginning, which is embedded above. I think the thing I love most about “The Witches” is how frightening it is. It feels like an old Brothers Grimm fairy tale in some ways, a girl gets stuck in a painting, parents die, witches try to rid the world of all children, excellent! Once again, maybe too scary for the younger ones, but an older child interested in creepy folklore and fairy tales would certainly enjoy it.

The Spirit of the Beehive (El espíritu de la colmena)

This Spanish film is one of the most visually stunning movies I’ve ever seen. I guess I’m not sure how many children would like it, but it is one of my favorite films with a young protagonist. It is an allegorical film set during the Spanish civil war, a young girl sees “Frankenstein” at her local movie theater, and becomes obsessed with the monster. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen this, and may be the odd one out in this list, but I couldn’t make a list of movies with young protagonists without mentioning this one.

And finally…

The Secret of Roan Inish

I watched this John Sayles’ film for the first time a few weeks ago, and was blown away. If your child loves mermaids, but you’re tired of Ariel and company, give this Irish mermaid (selkie) film a try; lyrical, lovely, understated, and enchanting, you won’t regret it if you do.

When I read the news last night, I felt my chest tighten and my jaw drop. It hurt. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so viscerally upset about a “celebrity’s” death before. I told my girlfriend, and she said, “it’s not as if he was a friend of yours,” but in a way it hurts just as bad. I know that probably sounds a little hyperbolic/melodramatic to some of you, and even if I tried to explain it, it still would, so I’m not going to. He was just one of those people who I felt better knowing was still around, even if I didn’t listen to much of his post-Big Star output.

I could go on and on about how great Big Star were, how they influenced almost every worthwhile band that came after them, and how much those three records mean to me, but I won’t. I’ll just leave you with a few songs.

You’ll be missed, Alex.

Positive Aspects of the Film:
-The author’s note at the beginning is funny.
-Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt are easy on the eyes.
-There is one funny Star Wars-related sight gag.
-The split-screen expectations vs. reality idea scene was interesting and worked well.

Negative Aspects:
- It’s derivative.
- The characters are emotionally stunted. Had the characters been ten years younger, it would have been more believable. They were supposed to be in their mid-late twenties, and they acted like High School Sophomores, playing “the penis game,” etc. They aren’t lovable Apatow-esque characters trying to prolong their virtually responsibility-free adolescent lives, they’re idiots.
- It’s hardly ever funny.
- It’s gimmicky as hell.
- It tries very hard to be “hip.” There is a Garden State-esque moment with The Smiths as opposed to The Shins, JGL sings Pixies and Clash songs at a Karaoke bar, etc.

I wanted to like this movie, but anyone who has seen Annie Hall will see that it is basically as if they took that great film, dumbed it down, made it a whole lot less funny, made the characters less likable, and tried to cover all that with a sheen of hip pop-culture references (some terribly agonizing), and fast, colorful shots. In a way, it is to Annie Hall what Garden State is to Harold & Maude.

It will do well, but as a review written by Devin Feraci for Cinematic Happenings Under Development rather astutely says, “It is a fairly unoriginal, quite conventional movie that is designed to specifically appeal to people who think they’re very original and not at all conventional,” and “500 Days of Summer will only end up as well regarded as its influences by people who haven’t seen them.”

Not recommended

Brooks & Dunn’s latest single, “Cowgirls Don’t Cry” has been getting a lot of airplay over the past four months or so. It’s by the numbers country. It’s not their best moment, but it’s not bad either. I don’t claim to be a huge Brooks & Dunn fan, but I like them enough to defend “Neon Moon” as the well-written, perfectly executed slice of slick country-pop that it is:

Mmm… Now here is “Cowgirls Don’t Cry”:

The song has a nice enough melody which puts it above a dishearteningly high number of contemporary mainstream country songs. The production is very clean. There is some nice steel guitar, fiddle, and piano playing. Dunn’s vocals are good, but the lyrics leave something to be desired. Since clean production and crackerjack musicianship is par for the course in contemporary country music, the song remains average at best. When Brooks & Dunn originally released “Cowgirls Don’t Cry” as a single it didn’t do as well as they had hoped. But they had an inspired idea, they went back into the studio and added a special guest vocal by Reba McEntire.

This helped the song gain in popularity by leaps and bounds, and with good reason.

Ms. McEntire’s appearance in the song is not a long one, but it makes all the difference in the world. If you don’t want to listen to the whole song again start around the 2:15 mark through to the end:

At 2:41 when Reba’s voice kicks in, I don’t care about the treacly lyrics anymore, nor do I care that it doesn’t really make sense for her to sing at that point in the song because it is supposed to be the protagonist of the song’s father speaking, not the protagonist. I don’t care that Ms. McEntire’s inclusion could easily be written off as a gimmick to sell more records. I don’t care because I believe her. I don’t even know what it is that I believe, but from the moment she starts in shaky and vulnerable until she finishes with a renewed sense of purpose and strength, I’m all hers. The moment Ms. McEntire starts singing, the song is elevated to the transcendental. The only problem is that the moment ends much too soon.

I finally got my hands on a copy of “Nilsson Sings Newman” (I’ve been meaning to for about three years now) a couple of months ago, however I didn’t get the chance to give it a close listen until today. That said, I’ve listened to it three times and counting since this morning. It’s excellent. Maybe not as immediately gripping as other classic pop/rock albums of the late 60s/early 70s, but just as rewarding. It’s as intimate as Brian Wilson’s piano and vocal arrangement of “Surf’s Up”:

but also as loose and organic sounding as the best songs from The Band’s “Music from Big Pink”:

It’s worth checking out. As are Harry Nilsson and Randy Newman’s various solo records from the late 60s/early 70s, (e.g. “Nilsson Schmilsson,” “Good Old Boys,” etc.)

Since it’s almost Valentine’s Day, here is one of the sweeter songs from the record:

One of the few things that keeps winter in Wisconsin from being completely unbearable is the feeling of relief you get when you get back inside after being out in it for awhile. The release of ripping off all of your winter outerwear and throwing it in a pile. Knowing you can now sit back watching the snow fall outside your window. It’s easier to admire the beauty of it from a distance.

Both the idea of escape and the joy of coming in from the cold are present in today’s song, Patchwork’s “Interstate Love Song II.” One of my favorite tracks off of last year’s “Take Me Down The Interstate.”

Enjoy the song, and try to keep warm, everyone.

Also, if you enjoyed this song, the man behind the Patchwork moniker, Jeremiah Nelson, has his own blog that you can check out here.

I never really thought to compare the two until I saw the above photo of Mr. Gibbard on the Onion’s AV Club website, but when I did I thought of a couple similarities.

Aside from being doppelgangers:

They were both the lead singer of a band with a macabre sounding name. Ozzy Osbourne with Black Sabbath (1968-1979), Ben Gibbard with Death Cab For Cutie (1997-Present).

and

They both have relatively high, easily recognizable voices.

One theory I have is that they are, in fact, the same person. Some more supporting evidence:

I’ve never seen them in the same place at the same time…

Ozzy Osbourne has never put out a good record in the same year a good Ben Gibbard-related record came out. Maybe after “Diary of a Madman,” Ozzy got tired of metal and started listening to college-rock like R.E.M., The Smiths, Pixies, etc, and kept along that similar track, just making throwaway hard rock records so the public wouldn’t find out about his plans to start an indie rock band around 1996-1997.

I also believe that the decrepit, mumbling, old man Ozzy portrayed himself as on “The Osbournes” was a facade. Ozzy Osbourne does not age.

If my theory is correct, I hope someone will inform Zooey Deschanel, before she makes a big mistake.

Anyway… here are some great songs by both parties:

Death Cab For Cutie’s “Bixby Canyon Bridge” off of last summer’s stellar “Narrow Stairs.”

Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs,” a favorite of mine since the age of 12.