american hi-fi

The Sunshine House, Or Musical Retirement

in: the grave

I like a lot of songs. And I just so happen to really, truly like a lot of bad songs. Glimpse my iPod on BART, or use the elliptical next to mine at the gym, and you’re sure to catch some fairly embarrassing things. I admit to still occasionally partaking in a little pop-punk (ask me about that rediscovery sometime) and even some pure ’60s sugar, and I find that, sometimes, the unsubstantial can be comforting. But not every song has redeeming qualities. Some are fraught with disquieting memories, and others are so bad they hit bad-good and simply wrapped back around. And those are the ones I’ve finally begun saying my good-byes to. That’s where my newest feature, The Sunshine House, comes into play.

The Sunshine House, which is a nod to the daycare center of the same overly cheery name, is my way of bidding songs a proper adieu. There are more than enough tracks to serve as proper fodder for this sort of feature, and I think it can make for fun, short entries.

To kick things off, I created a mix on 8tracks of twenty-five love songs that are ripe for retirement.

The Sunshine House Collective: track listing below (click on link to listen to mix via 8tracks)

I’ve spent about ten years composing calculated mix CDs for the boys for whom I harbor intense crushes, and I’ve learned there are only so many times Ben Gibbard can coo that he’ll follow me into the dark without it becoming insincere. Certain songs get old fast. Don’t get me wrong – I have intense relationships with a number of love songs, include these tracks I’ve included on The Sunshine House Collective, from “This is the Sweetest Little Song” by Butch Walker and the Let’s-Go-Out-Tonites to Wilco’s “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” And not all of these songs are bad or overwrought or overplayed, but love songs are a complicated sort. Like every girl shaped by cinema, I form unbreakable associations between people and songs, and so many of these tracks are forever tainted by these associations. “Treehouse” was Duck’s song, while “Thirteen,” “Sixteen, Maybe Less” and “First Day of My Life” were all about being sixteen and positively infatuated with the first boy I ever thought I loved. Some love songs are timeless; “Everlong” will never lose its luster, while the early Beatles pop songs will always perfectly describe the careful build-up of a love story. But some of these tracks can never be applied to another chapter in my romantic life. I’ve liked a lot of boys, and a lot of songs are headed to this musical graveyard, but, for now, we can get started with these twenty-five. Suffice to say, these tracks won’t be making any mixes for the foreseeable future.

The the line-up’s below. I can’t promise I’ll be back in full force just yet; I know I’ve been away a long time, but I’m sans computer currently, and it’s hard to promise regular blog posts without one. I am living in San Francisco currently, and that’s looking like a more permanent thing, so hopefully I’ll be able to carve out a more regular post schedule soon. But, for now:

The Sunshine House Collective:

  1. “Every Thug Needs A Lady” – Alkaline Trio
  2. “This Is The Sweetest Little Song” – Butch Walker & The Let’s-Go-Out-Tonites
  3. “The Tension and the Terror” – Straylight Run
  4. “The Scientist” – Coldplay
  5. “Mixtape” – Butch Walker
  6. “Intoxicating” – David Crowder Band
  7. “I’m A Fool” – American Hi-Fi
  8. “Thirteen” – Ben Kweller
  9. “16, Maybe Less” – Iron & Wine/ Calexico
  10. “I Will Follow You Into The Dark” – Death Cab For Cutie
  11. “Treehouse” – I’m From Barcelona
  12. “First Day of My Life” – Bright Eyes
  13. “This Year’s Love” – David Gray
  14. “The Luckiest” – Ben Folds
  15. “Calling You” – Blue October
  16. “Happy Together” – The Turtles
  17. “The Promise” – When In Rome
  18. “More Than a Feeling” – Boston
  19. “I Want You to Want Me” – Cheap Trick
  20. “Everytime We Touch” – Cascada
  21. “So Contagious” – Acceptance
  22. “Crash Into Me” – Dave Matthews Band
  23. “Oh, It’s Love” – hellogoodbye
  24. “I’m the Man Who Loves You” – Wilco
  25. “Beating Heart Baby” – Head Automatica

The Dunce Cap: June 7, 2010

in: heavy rotation

The geeks of Wet Hot American Summer

I hope it’s not jumbo shrimp, because I’m allergic to oxymorons!

The Dunce Cap, Vol. 11: So many foreign worlds, so ready for us. (mix via 8tracks)

1. “Close to Home” – The Get Up Kids
2. “Laid” – James
3. “No Diggity” – Klaxons
4. “Silvia” – Miike Snow
5. “Be My Baby” – The Ronettes
6. “Britney” – I’m From Barcelona
7. “Creature Fear” – Bon Iver
8. “Happiness” – Jonsi and Alex
9. “For Real” – Okkervil River
10. “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks” – The National

*BONUS TRACK: “The Geeks Get the Girls” – American Hi-Fi

The 2000s were, undeniably, the decade of the nerd. Sure, Duckie, Long Duk Dong and any character played by Anthony Michael Hall in a John Hughes flick had their fifteen minutes of fame, fortune and genuine female attention, but the aughts saw an unprecedented rise in the triumph of wallflowers in popular culture. There was the gang from Freaks and Geeks, led by John Francis Daley of Bones, who closed out the ’90s; Ugly Betty, Napoleon Dynamite, Seth Cohen and Ted Mosby (yes, the real Ted Mosby) all had their spots in the space-time continuum of geek lead triumph, but no ragtag troupe of amateur nerdlings captured my heart like the geeks of Wet Hot American Summer.

This is a mix inspired by these gems, by the caped kid cradling his 20-sided die, by The Cure Girl (called so in the credits of the film), by David Hyde Pierce‘s caustic Henry and all of the other kids who “like science.” They “save” their summer camp by diverting a rogue piece of Skylab, but the most earnest and touching part is that they discover friendship (this would warrant a trite vomit if it weren’t so hilariously choreographed by David Wain and Michaels Ian Black and Showalter). They form li’l bond to beat the summer camp blues, stargazing, plotting, commiserating and running from dodgeball. Together.

These are songs about unrequited love, homesickness, fear, Britney Spears and, of course, geeks. It’s dedicated to those freaks, geeks and Otis Redding-belting nerds who stole my heart and let me be their friend.

For now – I am jetsetting to the exotic town of Snellville, Ga., on Monday, but fret not – The Dunce Cap will prevail! I know I haven’t done June Book Club yet, so look out for that soon.

Now finish up them taters; I’m gonna go fondle my sweaters.

Happy listening.

Book Club: May music

in: on queue


“You Belong With Me (Taylor Swift cover)”

Tomorrow. Tonight, rather. Butch Walker. At House of Blues. Beyond thrilled. This will be my fourteenth (approximately) Butch Walker live show, and I’ve seen him through the various stages of his career, from Marvelous 3 to the Let’s Go Out Tonites to his stint with American Hi-Fi, and I cannot wait to take part in his newest endeavor with the Black Widows. To be frank, this whole blog endeavor could read as an endearing love letter to Walker.

Walker is hilarious and has a unique and captivating on-stage persona. He recently appeared on stage at the 52nd Grammys with Taylor Swift (and Stevie Nicks!) to perform her “You Belong With Me,” and the teen pop star attended Walker’s show in Minneapolis Friday. He’s renowned in the industry for his production and co-songwriting abilities, but I’m familiar with his independent musicianship, as he is a good ol’ hometown boy (“You say you’re from Cartersville/God, don’t say that too loud!”), and I’m so proud of all that he has accomplished. He’s had a slew of hits for bands such as Bowling for Soup, SR-71 and Weezer (he co-wrote their shockingly awesome track “(If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To” and produced their seventh album, “Raditude“), as well as for tween queens Avril Lavigne and LiLo.

In Nov. 2007, Butch’s Malibu home, which he was renting from bassist Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, was ravaged by a wildfire. The home, located in Southern California, is the namesake of his album “Sycamore Meadows,” so named for the street it was located on. All of his possessions, including the masters to every song he had ever recorded, were destroyed. He’s since experienced a rebirth musically, experimenting with glam-rock throwbacks, winding chord progression and homages to Uncle Tupelo‘s alt-country. The result is a gloriously catchy sound which fits perfectly into the growing retrospective which is Walker’s ever-burgeoning musical career.

I’m really thrilled for a night of legal debauchery with The Duckster & the only man I have ever proclaimed a “Rock God.” A video of Butch’s non-musical antics is below. He offered a variety of pre-order packages for his new album, “I Liked It Better When You Had No Heart,” and the result of a ludicrous (and likely joke) $25,000 package is this video, a collaboration with Panic at the Disco (sans exclamation point)’s Brendon Urie.