"IMITOSIS" ANDREW BIRD (2007)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Music can be quite a remarkable thing to enjoy solo, but I think it’s best when experienced with like-minded fans. My wife and I don’t have a ton of common music interests, but Andrew Bird – among a few other artists – is someone we both agree on. Almost every time he performs in New York City, we make it a date night. For that reason alone, I think I’ve enjoyed his shows even more than I typically would. Bird’s catalog is quite extensive, but thankfully he still plays “Imitosis” from his 2007 album Armchair Apocrypha.

“Imitosis” is, in many ways, a very typical Andrew Bird song in that it’s very atypical. His instrumentation is always daring, bringing in different types for different songs. Here he breaks out the Glockenspiel, which adds a light accent that’s perfect for the track. Moreover, the rhythm seems more influenced by Argentine tango than Americana folk, making the track a playful one. In the live setting, the song really comes alive. I just hope Bird keeps on playing it.

“Tell me doctor, can you quantify The reason why?”

"IN MY ROOM" YAZ (1982)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

The topic of great electronic music can’t be had without mentioning Upstairs at Eric’s and the talented duo of Vince Clarke and Alison Moyet. While I do love Depeche Mode, I was never a real fan of the Vince Clarke years. But, for me, things were different with Upstairs at Eric’s (not to mention many of the early Erasure albums). This is when I truly began to appreciate Clarke’s unique synth pop stylings paired with Moyet’s vastly underrated and underexposed prowess as a lead singer (at least here in the States). Upstairs at Eric’s showcases both commanding synth arrangements and vocal performances. And “In My Room” stuck out like a sore thumb. I love it.

Most of the songs on Upstairs at Eric’s were built to make you dance. Well, not “In My Room”. It’s packed with more samples than dance-worthy keyboard hooks. It’s a sprawling track with miles of space built in between those electronic drum hits. The song prominently features the Lord’s Prayer read robotically and repeatedly, and accompanied by recordings of conversation bits and shattered glass. “In My Room” is a spiritual experience. Clarke’s synth lines are intentionally understated to bring greater prominence to the gravity of the spoken words and Moyet’s resolute vocals.

“And in the room locked up inside me. The cutout magazines remind me. I sit and wait alone in my room.”

"SAN QUENTIN" JOHNNY CASH (1969)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Most music artists tend to have a favorite venue or at least a favorite type of venue to perform in. Jerry Garcia once famously said that only two theaters mattered: The Fillmore and The Capitol. Each venue space carries its own history, aura, and stories. For Johnny Cash, prisons were places where his audiences experienced redemption during some of his most famous concerts – and I wonder if these state penitentiaries allowed Cash to experience an equal amount of redemption himself. At Folsom Prison was Cash’s most renowned album from his four-part prison series, making At San Quentin a bit of an underrated gem.

The title track isn’t one of the more well known songs on his set list by any stretch. But judging from the roars, whistles and applause from the crowd, it was right up there with “Folsom Prison Blues” and “I Walk the Line”. Cash was giving much more than just a great performance. He took a much more empathetic stance, making every syllable in the lyrics an acknowledgement of what these inmates were up against. He made “San Quentin” their song, not his own song. In writing it and going behind prison doors to perform it, Cash leveled the playing field – essentially declaring the inmates as his equals. The song resonated with them so much, he went ahead and played it twice.

“San Quentin, you've been A livin' hell to me. You've blistered me since 1963. I've seen 'em come and go and I've seen them die. And long ago I stopped askin' why.”

"WALKING IN MY SHOES" DEPECHE MODE (1993)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Violator will forever be known as the album that put Depeche Mode on the map. It was the album that truly brought their music to the masses; ironically it wasn’t the one preceding it. Still, when you look at the album immediately following Violator — Songs of Faith and Devotion — one can argue that it was the better of the three albums from top to bottom. The band felt completely locked in, despite the growing tensions within the group. And one of the highlights from this rich album is “Walking In My Shoes”.

Did DM turn into a rock band overnight? The instrumentation showed a rougher edge to the band with live drums, muscular guitar riffs and large doses of feedback. But the songwriting was still Martin Gore at the core. The exceptionally crafted lyrics straddled that delicate balance of vulnerability and brashness as told through the voice of a convict inside a courtroom. I got to see the band perform this song live on the Devotional Tour. There was no question that the infighting happening with the band affected their energy. For a few years, Depeche Mode had earned a reputation for being great live performers. While the showmanship just wasn’t there, it was clear that DM turned a corner. By expanding their sound to include more rock elements, somehow they found their sweet spot musically.

“But I promise now, my judge and jurors. My intentions couldn't have been purer. My case is easy to see.”

"KODACHROME" PAUL SIMON (1972)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Thanks to countless yearbook write-ups, one of the most quoted songs of all time belongs to Paul Simon. “Kodachrome” took a friendly, lighthearted approach to rebellion. And musically, Simon was also his same rebellious self on this track. Daring to cross genres. Daring to even defy them. With every percussive beat. With every uplifting note. Sounds a lot like the Simon & Garfunkel canon – like a continuation of those musical and lyrical themes, standing in stark contrast to his world music-influenced solo work that would manifest in the eighties with Graceland.

“When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, It's a wonder I can think at all. And though my lack of education hasn't hurt me none, I can read the writing on the wall.”

"SUICIDE UNDERGROUND" AIR (2000)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

The French ambient duo Air wouldn’t be where they are today without Sofia Coppola. The director’s decision to include the band’s songs on her movie soundtracks – including The Virgin Suicides, Lost In Translation and Marie Antoinette – gave them unprecedented exposure. For The Virgin Suicides, Air also got the green light to develop the music score, which got the attention of critics and is considered one of the finest scores composed in the modern era.

There are a couple of relatively well-known tracks on it, including “Playground Love” and “Highschool Lover”, but the whole score is worth listening to from the opening track to its closer, “Suicide Underground”. The spoken word narration on this track adds a gravitas that cannot be achieved by standard vocals. Air’s meandering bass line, acoustic guitar and mesmerizing synth notes offer a sterile backdrop for the words to soar on top of. It’s not a standout Air track by any means, but it’s a powerful end statement for an exceptional music score.

“Fleeing from the house, we forgot to stop at the garage.”

"SO LONELY" THE POLICE (1978)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

One of the most unique sounding bands from my childhood years, the music from The Police always stood out to me. The music traversed a seemingly wide territory shared by rock and reggae like a musical Venn diagram. Unusual, but highly accessible. Sting’s lyrics were exceptionally clever and took seemingly straightforward topics into the stratosphere. He wrote prose and poetry. Case in point: “So Lonely”.

Listening back to “So Lonely”, I’m struck by the rawness of the song. The simplicity of sound from the three-piece certainly contributes to the garage band feel. But this is also a reminder of the band’s roots. It was never about slick production when it came to The Police; it was always about the songs. The melodies. The lyrics. The ever-so-catchy chorus. “So Lonely” is angsty, miserable, cathartic and celebratory all at once. It’s so damn catchy, you can’t help but sing along to it – alone or in a crowd.

“In this theater that I call my soul I always play the starring role.”

"MISTAKEN FOR STRANGERS" THE NATIONAL (2007)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

One of my all-time favorite bands is The National, a band that has seemed to always sync up mysteriously well with my own life. Boxer came out the year my wife and I got married – and High Violet was released weeks before our first child was born. The music always seemed to usher me into new seasons – with Matt Berninger’s gifted approach to lyrics that sound more like conversations with eccentric friends. I’ve seen the band perform live a few times. While “Mr. November” and “Abel” have been some of the more anticipated bangers on tour, for me it was always about the quiet stoic power of “Mistaken for Strangers”.

Berninger delivers the lyrics nearly in monotone, as if in a trance. “Showered and blue-blazered, fill yourself with quarters,” he announces in his trademark bass delivery. “Mistaken for Strangers” is the quintessential National song in many ways. Frenetic, yet calculated. Seemingly on the verge of losing control, but hanging on still. Bryan Devendorf’s drum rolls seem to be having seizures in between verses, while the Dessner brothers contribute these guitar parts that an industrial feel to them like fellow Boxer tracks “Brainy” and “Guest Room”. “Mistaken for Strangers” is a song that celebrates the everyday man poeticism of Matt Berninger.

“You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends When you pass them at night Under the silvery, silvery Citibank lights.”

"SUBDIVISIONS" RUSH (1982)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

In my elementary school years, my parents would take my brother and I to the Pleasantville town library. Thing is, I had no interest in books at the time. But the library had music cassettes that you could borrow. It was inside this library that I discovered one of the most important bands of my journey as a music fan: Rush. The cassette backs were a strange beige. The music was cerebral, mostly guitar-driven, album-oriented, progressive-as-progressive-gets rock. Signals was one of the first albums I devoured – and my favorite track from the album with the spotted dog is the opener, “Subdivisions”.

One of Rush’s synth-heavy tracks, “Subdivisions” feels like a departure from the guitar-first sound the band created for over a decade by the time Signals came around. But not to fret, Alex gets his guitar solo, a proper banger at the 4:20 mark. Lyrically, this is one of my favorite Neil Peart writings. It’s a song of the stark dystopian reality of suburbia. While many of Neil’s lyrics in other songs ruminate over fictitious narratives, “Subdivisions” seemed much more grounded and relatable. A rare gem in the great Rush canon.

“In the high school halls. In the shopping malls. Conform or be cast out. Subdivisions.”

"DANCE AWAY" ROXY MUSIC (1979)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Roxy Music’s evolution as a band wasn’t highly unusual, but it was significant. Going from a more progressive, original sound to a more “commercial” sound seemed a bit abrupt. Country Life and Siren certainly had accessible aspects to them, but Manifesto seemed to open the floodgates to the masses. To be honest, it’s this second era of Roxy Music that I enjoy most. The style and aesthetics are still there, but this is where the production and attention to detail reached a new level – and “Dance Away” was a perfect example of this.

I view “Dance Away” as a foreshadowing of Avalon. All the things that made that legendary album great are happening on this track. The delicate refinement of Bryan Ferry’s vocals and the instrumentation by Mackay, Manzanera and Thompson are not constraining, they’re liberating. The ethereal quality allows the song to soar. It’s easy to dismiss Manzanera’s guitar work because it’s so incredibly subtle, but its the atmospheric agenda of his playing that’s most impressive.

“Now I'm in the dark, off the wall. Let the strobe light up them all. I close my eyes and dance till dawn. Dance away.”

"FITTER HAPPIER" RADIOHEAD (1997)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

OK Computer and Kid A are the two most commonly cited Radiohead albums in terms of the band’s massive innovation and influence on rock. While The Bends is still my favorite record of theirs – can’t get enough of Jonny’s monster guitar riffs on that one – OK Computer is my second favorite Radiohead album. Every song is progressive in its own way. But of all the tracks, “Fitter Happier” pushes the norms of rock music the most.

First off, it’s barely a song. It’s a track with the only thing that’s remotely melodic being the wandering piano and disparate synth sounds. “Fitter Happier” feels like the audio equivalent of a David Lynch film. The mood it creates is perhaps its biggest strength. The irony of all the things listed as ways to become fitter and happier seem so lifeless when recited by the automated voiceover. It seems to be more life-draining than life-giving.

“Fitter happier. More productive. Comfortable. Not drinking too much. Regular exercise at the gym 3 days a week.”

"TOM'S DINER" SUZANNE VEGA WITH DNA (1990)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Purists choose the Suzanne Vega original off of Solitude Standing, but the remix with DNA is my favorite version of the song by far. Rarely do I think the remix collab formula beats the original. But it does happen. One of the other few exceptions I can think of is the Aerosmith / RUN D.M.C. version of “Walk This Way”. The blend of sound and genres was a case where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. And that’s the case here with “Tom’s Diner”.

What I love most about the song is that it describes a real restaurant that Suzanne Vega ate at frequently when she was a student at Barnard. It’s a real place conjuring real memories with real people. “Tom’s Diner” is real life, not fiction, captured so vividly in Vega’s monotonous, repetitive vocals, each verse flanked by a series of irreplaceable doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doos. DNA’s bass and drum machine assure us there is rhythm and energy in the monotony of morning coffee at the diner.

“Does she see me? No she does not Really see me 'Cause she sees Her own reflection.”

"LAUNDROMAT MONDAY" JOE JACKSON (1983)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Confession, I never heard this song until this week – a whole 40 years after its release. I also never heard of the album, or the movie Mike’s Murder for that matter. This is one of the great things about music. We never stop discovering. Joe Jackson’s immense catalog is rich and diverse, crossing between many different genres, sometimes within a single album. “Cosmopolitan” has that new wave touch. “Memphis” has a classic rock / surf rock feel. And “Laundromat Monday” is Joe Jackson on his jazz agenda.

I never saw the movie, but “Laundromat Monday” is intriguing as a soundtrack cut. It has a theatrical feel that makes it seem ripe for a Broadway musical. It’s very Joe Jackson. Simple character-based storytelling. Piano-driven accents. And energetic vocal chants. Best of all, the notion of a laundromat Monday feels like a thing, but in its own mundane manner. It’s what I love most about Joe Jackson’s music.

“Each quarter I've made is lost in washing machines. I'm gonna change the world, I could be President If I could just work out where all my Mondays went.”

'LOST IN THE SUPERMARKET" THE CLASH (1979)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Many of the most legendary recordings in music got their legendary status from the strength of their cohesive sound. The ability to make the whole and the individual parts work equally well is no easy feat. Well, that isn’t London Calling. As legendary as it is, the album veers into various rabbit holes, exploring multiple sounds and genres. It’s a true mish-mosh. It’s exceptional, but it’s still a mish-mosh. Eight tracks in, we come up on a song that doesn’t even sound anything like The Clash. It’s the beautifully addictive “Lost in the Supermarket”.

What’s going on here? Is that a disco rhythm we hear? This isn’t the anti-establishment, Brit punk outfit we know and love. Instead, “Lost in the Supermarket” showcases a band that’s going beyond its comfort zone, stretching itself musically. My favorite track off London Calling, Track 8 is a wry commentary on suburban alienation. The lyrics and the way that they are sung are unforgettable. It may not sound anything like a punk rock song, but therein lies its punk rock essence. The refusal to simply follow suit.

“I'm all lost in the supermarket. I can no longer shop happily. I came in here for that special offer. A guaranteed personality.”

"BLACK GOLD" SOUL ASYLUM (1992)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

College was a special time in my life – and music was there all along providing the soundtrack. I was a freshman in the fall of 1991, so you can imagine, grunge and all its varied forms was integral to these years. Soul Asylum is not a typical grunge band. In fact, many of their songs sound nothing like grunge. They had a big acoustic era, and they were even recording albums nearly 10 years before grunge exploded on the scene. Still, somehow the Grave Dancers Union album feels very much in line with era-defining releases like the Singles soundtrack, which was full of grunge jams.

“Black Gold” was pretty big on Boston’s alt rock radio station WFNX. “Runaway Train” and “Somebody To Shove” were bigger hits, but “Black Gold” is the most nostalgic of the three tracks for me. Quiet-loud-quiet dynamics evoke thoughts of Nirvana and Pixies. The heavier grunge-like guitar parts are fine, but it’s the iconic treble note cascades coming out of the chorus that get me every single time. Listening to the song again, I feel like I’m back in my freshman dorm all over again.

“Won't you fill up the tank, let's go for a ride.”

"THE UPSTAIRS ROOM" THE CURE (1983)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

A significant departure from Pornography, the 12-inch release of “The Walk” seemed to have a pep in its step. It was like a 180 degree turn toward a poppier, catchier agenda. While “The Walk” was one of those early classic Cure singles that brought me into the fold, the b-side gem “The Upstairs Room” is actually my favorite track from the single release. Despite the departure of Simon Gallup, one of my favorite bass players of all time, the band found a way to move forward and do some interesting things musically.

“The Upstairs Room” has a few subtle, unexpected tendencies, starting with its abrupt beginning. It’s a song that seems to waste no time getting ramped up with Tolhurst’s dreamy, layered synth hooks that feel like a lullaby. Then Robert’s signature guitar riff enters the song like a night terror bout, waking us from our synth bubble. Gallup’s absence from the band is certainly felt on “The Upstairs Room” and its single counterpart “The Walk”. But Smith and Tolhurst deserve credit for staying the course after this tumultuous period in the band’s history.

“I LOVE IT ALL, THESE GAMES WE PLAY. I CLOSE MY EYES. YOU RUN AWAY.”

"SCENES FROM AN ITALIAN RESTAURANT" BILLY JOEL (1977)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Billy Joel will always hold a special place in my journey as a music fan. Seeing him on the Storm Front tour at Giants Stadium was my first concert experience. What a night. He played all the songs I wanted to hear. And there are a lot of them. All these years later, he still plays many of those same songs, including “Movin’ Out”, “Miami 2017”, “Allentown”, “Big Shot”, “Uptown Girl”, “New York State Of Mind” and, of course, “Scenes From An Italian Restaurant”.

It’s one of the standouts in the mammoth Billy Joel canon and current live set list. Lately, it has preceded “Piano Man” to help close out his first sets. Chances are, most music fans still remember all the words. I know I do. It’s karaoke-worthy in that sense. The verses flow like bottles of red and white. The drum hits, spicy and garlicky. The saxophone solo, done al dente. It’s not just about Brenda and Eddie, it’s a song about love, life and loss.

“A bottle of red, a bottle of white, Whatever kind of mood you're in tonight I'll meet you anytime you want In our Italian Restaurant.”

"APARTMENT STORY" THE NATIONAL (2007)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

This was one of the first National songs I heard. Boxer still remains one of my favorite albums from the band. Over the last couple of album releases, the band has mellowed out and certainly lived up to the reputation as sad dad rockers. There’s a lot of great songwriting on their latest record, but I miss the more energetic side of the band - and even just some of the great mid-tempo jams like the somewhat underrated track, “Apartment Story”.

In the recent New Yorker magazine article that highlighted the band, bassist Scott Devendorf described his brother Bryan Devendorf’s drumming style as “machine organic”. It’s a perfect summary of the unique percussion style that drives “Apartment Story” and so many National songs. The drumming seems to accentuate the malaise and exhaustion of trying to be social, but then finding comfort in that one person who you can just be yourself with. It’s not among my favorite National songs, but it has everything I love about them.

“Tired and wired, we ruin too easy. Sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave.”

"ONE WEEK" BARENAKED LADIES (1998)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Few songs are as initially intriguing and perpetually annoying shortly after as “One Week”. The chart position says it all. It rose to #1 on the U.S. Billboard 100 – and it stayed there literally for one week. Still, do you remember the first time you heard the song? I do. Barenaked Ladies outdid REM’s “It’s The End of the World As We Know It” and Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start The Fire” by taking a similar route, but doing it in hyperdrive.

The words. It’s all about the words. Lyrically, “One Week” is a magnum opus. A cultural encyclopedia spilling over the edges – and it rhymes (like LeAnn Rimes). If you need to get a pulse of the topics that made headlines in the nineties and you needed it quick, listening to “One Week” will probably do the trick. Makes me wonder how many takes it took to nail it down because every line is rhythmically connected to another – and at light speed.

“Like Snickers, guaranteed to satisfy.”

"THIS IS AMERICA" CHILDISH GAMBINO (2018)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

The relationship between images and music has always been a powerful, inescapable part of the music listening experience. Album art. Music videos. Full-length concert documentaries. And now NFT collectibles. In 2018, Childish Gambino produced a music video for “This Is America” that was intricately and artistically tied to the track with perfection. There are few music videos that have left as powerful an impression as this one.

It’s easy to let the music video steal the thunder of this song itself. Which would be a shame. “This is America” blends hip hop with gospel and afrobeat textures, making the musicality completely different than anything else out there. Then there’s the message. Gun violence. Police brutality. Discrimination. Childish Gambino took this raw, honest commentary and the most un-pop-like track all the way to #1 on the charts. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime song.

“Look how I'm geekin' ouT. I'm so fitted. I'm on Gucci. I'm so pretty, yeah, yeah.”