Feature Friday: Linger – The Cranberries

This song is one of my earlier music memories. I recall visiting my (way) cooler older cousins for the summer and latching onto everything they did. It was all so much grander in the bigger metropolitan area that they lived in versus the dorky suburbs that I came from. I was in single-digit aged at the time, popping my head into each of their bedrooms in-between shadowing my aunt in the kitchen, careful to keep tabs on everything happening in the house.

One of my cousins was in her room lying on the bed in the dark, just the hallway light shining in. I didn’t even know she was in there, but I heard the long, sweeping violins that led into the song. I stuck around to hear the entire song before she hit rewind and played it again. I remember wondering how old I would have to be to have such important, bold feelings that I imagined the woman singing had. Would anything in my life ever warrant such pensiveness and introspection?

Of course, just like everyone who was around in the 90’s, I would hear this song a billion times as the years went on. I remember at one point I was in Las Vegas having a terrible time, fighting with the guy I was there with. We were barely speaking while hurrying up the walkway toward the front entrance of the Bellagio. I had the thought firmly in my head “I have to get away from this guy, and it’s going to be really hard to move on from him but I just have to.” Just then, the fountain show began timed to Linger. I didn’t let him see me crying, but I definitely was.

I imagined having this song as part of my wedding. It’s not a happy love song, per se, but it’s nothing if not gorgeous, nostalgic and meaningful to so many of us.

I was thrilled when the Cranberries released an updated acoustic version of Linger in 2017 as part of their album “Something Else.” It was somehow even more beautiful and heartfelt. They re-perfected something that I already regarded as perfect, and almost 25 years after it’s initial creation. I was elated.

Linger 2017 Acoustic Version

But then, one day while I was working in catering, I was on my way back from a delivery in my Mercedes Benz work van on the 405 freeway in West LA. It was such a pretty day, and the weather was beginning to get hot. Traffic came to a stop and, between switching songs on the radio I checked Facebook. Immediately I gasped, swallowed hard, and clenched my eyes tight, feeling hot tears slip out of the corners. Dolores O’Riordan had died. I never got to see them perform. She had children. The Cranberries were such a fixture of 90’s music. I was crushed.

After some time, I was able to enjoy the song again, but now it has a different context for me. It’s even sadder. Still I adore hearing it in public spaces or in TV shows or films. It’s truly one of my favorite songs ever, and it deserves to resurface forever.

Feature Friday: Tonight – Lykke Li

Lykke Li has put me through every emotion. I was thrilled when I scored tickets to see her in Las Vegas in 2015 at the tail end of her tour for “I Never Learn,” which is still one of my favorite albums ever. I was devastated when that very concert was canceled due to winds, and I was denied the chance to see her for years. I was furious when her comeback show was scheduled for a tiny (TINY) venue in downtown LA years later, but the tickets sold out before there was even a public announcement of it happening. I cried when I bought a scalped ticket for that show and met Mark Ronson while waiting outside, just two weeks after having gotten my Amy Winehouse tattoo.

The whole experience was overwhelming, and I was captivated by her concentration during her performance. She hadn’t had a show since becoming a mother and going through a fresh breakup. I hated everyone around me who had paid $25 for the show that I forked over $120 to get into. But it was worth it.

“I haven’t played this song in nine years. This is ‘Tonight'” she said. I had never given a fair listen to this song. It was pretty far back in her catalog, and by no means a hit. She started slowly:

“Watch my back, so I make sure
You’re right behind me, as before
Yesterday, the night before, tomorrow...”

She rose to chanting, with everyone singing along to the easy chorus “don’t you let me go, let me go tonight…” over and over.

I couldn’t get past it. In a concert where she debuted most of her then-forthcoming album “So Sad, So Sexy” and covered the best songs from “I Never Learn,” the standout was this small, simple music box of a song. I sang it to myself for days afterward, and have never really stopped since.

Having gone through a time when all you need is for someone to stay, even when you know they wont, when I listen to this song, I believe that Lykke Li is the only person who knows what it feels like. And only because of that, I feel a little less alone.

Feature Friday: Love S.O.S. – Justice

Categorized under “concerning,” this song jolted me the very first time I listened to Justice’s 2016 album “Woman.” It stands out, and Justice has taught me to stay on my toes when listening to tracks of theirs that I’m unfamiliar with. Sometimes the French House duo is funny. Sometimes they’re scary. Sometimes they’re messing around and others, they’re trying to really say something. This track ties all of those directions together in one song that leaves you thinking “What was that? And how do I feel about it?”

Carried by a lingering, distant siren, the song slowly blooms into drums and a myriad of electronic elements and very few, yet pointed lyrics.

“It’s a Love S.O.S.. There is another love emergency!”

I’ve come to love this song best when driving at night. It sounds like a dissolute city that’s cold and hard, leaving anyone with a shred of hope reaching out for any kind of connection.

It’s sad, if you think about it, and I’ve had a hard time getting people to look past the jarring siren intro to really get to the meat of the song. Months after I showed it to a friend (who reacted unfavorably to it) I received a text asking about the name of the track, which makes me believe that it’s a grower.

An intriguing ad campaign teasing the then yet-to-be released music video was even more curious, showing a bloodied muscled warrior of a figure looking into the mirror. The full music video is artfully done, and it’s as disturbing as it is fascinating.

Love S.O.S.

Lets Talk About…

Betty Who

I’m sure we all saw that youtube video with the Home Depot flash mob wedding proposal. In it, a man proposes to his longtime boyfriend with their entire families participating in the middle of a Home Depot to the song “Somebody Loves You.” It went viral, made everyone cry and inspired a ton of subsequent flash mob proposals on youtube. At the time, I was working for a radio show about love and dating. We contacted the married couple and interviewed them about the scenario, and recapped the video live on the air.

Somebody Loves You Proposal

Aside from that song, I hadn’t heard of Betty Who before, and I slept on her music until my roommate told me about her second album “The Valley” years later. “It’s one of this year’s best.” He insisted. “I can’t stop listening to it.”

I figured I’d check her out, and I did exactly enough research (not much) to learn a couple of her songs and determine that she was worth more time and attention of mine. Around that time, she just so happened to be touring. I had apparently missed her LA concert by just a few days, but luckily, she was playing about an hour south in Orange County that weekend. I jumped on it and bought a ticket on stubhub, committing to the drive and forfeiting my weekend evening on something of a chance.

I wasn’t totally sure what to expect, but I’m always open to new music to get into. I was shocked at what I found. I hadn’t seen that much effort exerted in a concert since Robyn back in 2011, and the energy was very similar: sad, strong and direct. She danced her ass off and belted out her lyrics. The crowd was small but ferocious, and it became clear that she was one of those artists who people either don’t know, or are obsessed with. There’s no in-between with Betty Who. The lingering question after the fact was, “why isn’t she a bigger deal?”

After that point, I stayed loyal and have gone to as many concerts of hers as I could, dragging along friends or a date, trying desperately to share what I found in her and give everyone the same rewarding experience of listening to her music. I was lucky enough to run into her on two separate occasions at other artists’ concerts. She’s incredibly gracious, and matched or surpassed my own enthusiasm about the interaction on both occasions. She seemed just as glad to meet me as I was to meet her. In fact, the first time we met, I told her “I hate bugging public figures, but I’d be really mad at myself if I didn’t tell you how important your music is to me.” She wasted no time calling one of her friends over to meet me and say “Hey can you take a picture of Aaron and I?”

One of her best, in my opinions, is “Pretend You’re Missing Me.” In it, she’s pleading with a former lover who she’s clearly not over and hoping that they can at least let her feel like she’s not the only stuck on the memory of the relationship.

“I’m in my bed and I’m still sleeping in your t-shirt
I’ll pretend you’re missing me.
I’m not on your mind
But when you hear our song, at least pretend you’re missing me“

Pretend You’re Missing Me

In “High Society,” Betty’s on the right side of a relationship, and loving every moment of it. She feels like she’s at the top of the world and, despite what reality would insist, she feels like a million bucks with her partner.

“Won’t you carry me away after endless ballroom dreams?
With you, starting every day we’ll be high society
We’ll drink Chardonnay through the day ’cause we say so
A silk lapel suits you well, baby you know…”

High Society

Feature Friday: Sigala & Paloma Faith – Lullaby

First and foremost I should be honest: I’m going through it. The kind of lingering ever present discomfort that kills my appetite and leaves me jumping out of my skin if I don’t do a good enough job at distracting myself. Aside from bothering everyone willing to listen, my go-to is music.

Paloma Faith has been a little favorite of mine for a few years now. I consider her an occasional delight. She’s British, has a voice reminiscent of Sia and she looks like Nelly Furtado. I assume she made a much greater splash in the UK than she did in America, and it’s rare that I hear her music publicly. When I’m listening to her, I’m captivated.

For this song, she paired with DJ/Producer Sigala in one of my favorite EDM tracks of the last few years. The premise is a familiar tale: That one person who holds the ability to pacify or sooth her is holding back, and she’s begging them to grant her relief. Once you relinquish that amount of trust to someone, they have a power over you that you can’t easily re-claim. She wants them to give her even the slightest gesture of love, which means little to them, but everything to her.

“‘Cause all I need is somebody near me
When my heart gets weak
Somebody out there watching over me
When I’m so tired, I can’t even sleep
Won’t you sing me a sweet lullaby?”

Original Version
Heartfelt Acoustic Version

Feature Friday: Taylor Swift – State of Grace

“Red” is arguably Taylor Swift’s best album. It fell perfectly between her earlier country sound and her more recent pop contributions. Some would consider her Pièce De Résistance to be “1989,” but those who know, know: Red is the one.

Back in 2013, I caught one of her many Concerts at Staples Center, and she kicked off the show with “State of Grace.” I had heard it before, but wasn’t totally captivated by it yet. There are so many gems on Red, especially the title track, but that evening it hit me just right.

Taylor is a songwriter first, and it’s easy to overlook that fact because she’s such a starlet; she’s got celeb drama, she’s a media machine and she’s a pretty, tall blonde girl. She could do just fine never writing her own material, but she does. The simplicity of the lyrical structure in this song is striking, and it still catches me off guard to this day. This song is built for karaoke, or singing at the top of your lungs in your car. Have no shame. Be fearless.

"And I never saw you coming. And I'll never be the same."

Feature Friday: Recovery – CULTS

“Drifting through the silence, searching for guarantees. Out of view, but not too far out of reach…”

This is my favorite song by CULTS, which has basically become one of my favorite bands. I love their ’60’s, surf-rock with a dark backstory-kinda sound, and I appreciate their style that’s cool and apathetic, while still conveying a point.

A few months back, I attended one of their shows and chatted with Brian (one half of the band) and asked him “how come you never play Recovery live? It’s like your best song.” He reacted with flattery and surprise, and told me to hit them up ahead of time next time to ask them to play it. “It’s a little tricky to pull off live, but we’d totally do it!”

This song nudges you to respect the process of healing, setbacks and all. Whether it’s a breakup, addiction, death or whatever, recovery is an ongoing process that we probably try to rush through. With anything, if you’re going to do it right, you can’t just force your way to an end goal. Don’t be so hard on yourself and get better at your own pace. “There’s no time to sit around and critique.”

Feature Friday: The Beach Boys – Don’t Worry Baby

Spend ten minutes with me and you’ll probably learn that I’m obsessed with nostalgia. While I’m fascinated by today’s youth, and I love knowing what’s going on with the coolest people among us, I’ve always spent my life daydreaming about a time that I never existed in. The 60’s and 70’s are my favorite times to mill over, be it fashion trends, films, cultural fads and especially music. I think some of the happiest and saddest music came from the 60’s, and many of my favorite modern acts have a style reminiscent of that time (check out CULTS).

This song isn’t my all time favorite of the Beach Boys– that’d be God Only Knows – but something about it really caught my attention recently. We’re in a tumultuous time, and with things going the way that they have been, there’s an uncertainty that leaves us all grasping for unity, stability or some reprieve. This simple little song cuts through the anguish in a timeless way. Sure, you can spend your days stressing about the state of things, or retrace your mistakes in your mind, but there isn’t any point in that. Thinking about your problems wont fix them. “Don’t worry, baby.”

Reader Request

Three Great Running Songs

I was challenged to compile a super short list of songs that one could jam out to while running. I dissected the most important elements of a workout song and what makes it so great; motivating, continuous and upbeat. Here’s what I came up with on-spot. Sidebar: I may run with this concept and make a full playlist shortly, so stay tuned.

Yelle – A Cause des Garcons (Tepr Remix)

This long remixed track is a pumped up version of a relatively tame Yelle song (tame for her, anyway). In this edition, her electric happiness is refracted in hypercolor and spewed across the dancefloor, making everything move in both slow and super-sped motion intermittently.  Elements are slowly added one by one until you’re in a full French disco frenzy, numb to all senses but sound. It’s about six minutes long, but it passes in a flash. Hopefully your run will too.

Betty Who – All of You

This track is serious fun. Like, the kind of ’80’s serious fun where you can’t tell if the attendees of the aerobics class are comedic geniuses, or just unaware of how strange the neon spandex singlets and teased up hair are. In any case, this song is made for moving. It feels like a flash mob at an airport with sunshine peeking through high glass windows while two international lovers embrace while everyone else goes about their intricate dance routine, throwing eachother in the air. Forget about how much pain you’re in, and I dare you not to smile while listening to this one.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Zero

“Shaking like a ladder to the sun.” And you’re off, hopefully destined for greatness. It sure feels like it, with Karen O challenging you during your arduous efforts. Are you gonna be a zero? Can you “climb, climb, climb?” A super fast guitar riff and building synths will get you in a trance. Totally in the zone to conquer your workout, and maybe smash a bottle over your head by the time you’re done. This is an all-time pump up song, and it hasn’t lost an ounce of potency since it came out in 2009. Go crazy, and move those legs as fast as you can to this juiced up jam.

That Time I met…

St. Vincent

New year, new series. This one can only go so far, but I thought it would be fun to record some of the adventures I’ve had living in LA and running into some of my favorite music folks. Again, not bragging, but these are (mostly) stories that deserve a telling.

So there I was at Amoeba, the legendary record store right in the middle of Hollywood on Sunset Boulevard. I’m lined up along the building waiting to meet Carly Rae Jepsen, who’s doing promo for her new album Dedicated. I’d met Carly Rae Jepsen once before (which will be the subject of a different post later on), but I was super excited to interact with her again face to face, plus give her this awesome pair of sparkly socks that I’d purchased and at Paul Smith a day prior. The encounter was energetic and quick. I had the rest of the day free. It was time for a drink.

I walked a few blocks away to a quirky Mexican restaurant where some friends of mine were working. I sat at the bar and chatted as they juggled conversations with me and tending to the few other patrons there. A manager and a supervisor sat at a both along the wall to my left, while some tourists took up a few of the booths near the front of the place to my right. In the back right corner, about seven people sat together chatting closely and laughing here and there. Some actress who I vaguely recognized sat among them at a bench. I could only spend a few moments trying to figure out where I knew her from until I realized she was sitting next to Annie Clark, aka St. Vincent. I really had to work hard not to choke on the Tajin lining my spicy margarita.

St. Vincent is a genius. She’s so insanely articulated in her wildly avant garde projects and what they mean, I can’t even understand the scope of her intellectuality or creativity. I’ve thought about meeting her before, and concluded that it should never happen, because she’s just too sharp of a person and I would most certainly have nothing valuable to offer her in conversation. There was no mistaking that it was her; she looked exactly as rockstar, coy and fucking cool as I’d ever seen her look in her music videos or her masterful live performances from the times I’d seen her. It was like watching Mona Lisa relaxing at bar with nobody else realizing it was strange but me.

She had a red nylon baseball jacked on with the sleeves pushed to her elbows and a pair of dark sunglasses resting on her head. She was probably eating but I couldn’t stare too long at her without her catching me. She’s quick. I tried my best to not focus on it. I knew that I wanted interaction, but I was uncharacteristically nervous about annoying her. Her opinion was too important and I considered just leaving the place altogether. More time passed and finally the big group she was with rose to leave. I had been coaching my friend “when she gets up, I’m gonna make a move. Take my phone and document whatever happens.”

I stood up, still about seven feet away, waiting for everyone in our path to move. Once they did, it was just her and I. She looked at me and could probably tell I was a fan. I was able to say “Annie, sorry to bug…” until she stopped me “woah cool shirt man!” I was wearing a Robyn shirt. “And awesome tattoo!” she watched as I turned my forearm out so she could check out my Amy Winehouse tattoo. “Wow, you’re totally representing!”

We chatted for a second, and I asked “I know it’s annoying but can I please get a picture with you?” and she amiably responded “oh my god of course babe, totally!” While my friend adjusted and took a few pictures, I told St. Vincent as we stood arm in arm, “Slow Disco is such a jam. I’m happy you made three versions of it!” and she chuckled, taken off-guard as if she’d never considered that there were three versions.

And just like that, she gave a warm thanks and wished me well. I was delighted and, frankly, really surprised. She seemed just as happy to meet me as I was to meet her. I felt like I made a friend that day, who just so happened to be a rock legend.