I found the following Weird Al Yankovic live concert. Looking at the audience at the beginning, I thought: they are white and nerdy. The show sounds quite a lot like They Might Be Giants. It hadn’t even occurred to me before just now that John Linnell is also an accordion player.

In addition, what a great band he has. Of course that isn’t hard. It’s really kind of like hiring an accountant. If you are willing to pay, they will play. But the music is still vibrant. And it is a really well put together show. You might remember that I mentioned last week that I thought that Stop Making Sense was pretentious. But Weird Al Yankovic shows that you can put together a really tight piece of entertainment without annoying me.

Anyway, this week has made me appreciate Yankovic more than I did before. Of course, I’m not going to run out and buy any of his work. I feel a little old for it anyway. I’m more inclined to pour a drink and sob through some Jacques Brel.

Today, we feature the Weird Al Yankovic song “If That Isn’t Love.” It is an odd song. It is a list of things men do in relationships that are meant to show great kindness but show the opposite. But it’s kind of hard to focus on the lyrics when watching the very creepy video.

The song is supposedly in the style of Hanson. This is another pop culture reference that I am unaware of. But at least in this case, I do know the style. It is very much like much of the music I’ve inadvertently overheard on radios over the past fifteen years. It isn’t the worst thing you are likely to hear if you make the mistake of leaving the house.

“If That Isn’t Love” does have a strong musical refrain. It’s a trick though. I could explain it, but then I’d have to give up my Music Snob card, and I’ve worked so hard to get it.

If you have to listen to a white person rap, it is probably best that it be Weird Al Yankovic on “White and Nerdy.” It’s very good. It cuts a bit to close to the bone for me. But it also suffers from the same problem that The Big Bang Theory does. Every white and nerdy guy is white and nerdy in his own way.

I think that we were all a lot more alike in high school. Yes: we all played D&D, for example. But you can’t be ostentatiously nerdy without realizing that you can’t be ostentatiously nerdy when you are like all the other ostentatiously nerdy guys.

Or maybe that’s just me. After all, I’ve always hung out more with the theater and literary crowd than the science geeks. It’s just that within the the theater and literary crowd, I am the science geek. In general, I find the science geeks really boring. (Doesn’t speak well of what the theater and literary crowd thinks of me, does it?!)

But the video displays very well what I think of as the defining characteristic of a nerd: being oblivious about just how uncool you are. The irony is that what is cool is defined by the nerds. Because things that are uncool today will be cool tomorrow. “Cool” is a loser’s game played by boring people. What’s ultimately interesting in a human being is their self-assurance and belief in their own tastes.

Is that Key and Peele at the beginning of the “White and Nerdy” video?

Now we get to the point where I really show my pop culture retardation. Today we are listening to Weird Al Yankovic’s “Party in the CIA.” I don’t like it that much just as a song goes. But the problem is most likely that it is a parody of a song I’ve never heard, “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus. And yes, I could go and listen to it now. The problem is that I am so stress out about work and finishing the book and getting this site set so I can go out of town, that I just can’t handle listening to a Miley Cyrus song.

One thing I didn’t know was that Miley Cyrus is the daughter of Billy Ray Cyrus. I find that’s interesting because it is so not surprising. I don’t know how it is that the myth of the meritocracy continues to live on. I’m not clear how the very existence of Jaden Smith doesn’t make the entire nation burst out laughing when the word “meritocracy” is uttered. I know: people convince themselves that it is all in the genes. I have two responses to that. First, that’s crap (I don’t have time to go into all the ways that it is crap). Second, how is that any different from the old idea of royal blood?

“Party in the CIA” also bothers me in that it is the kind of thing that people can take differently on the basis of their politics. I know that Yankovic is a liberal. But I also know a lot of authoritarians who would watch this video and come away with the idea that it would be totally great to be in the CIA and topple unfriendly governments. The truth is, in this song, Yankovic doesn’t tip his hand. That’s great for most subjects. Not for this.

On the other hand, I love the cartoon style.

When I was looking for an image to start this Weird Al Yankovic week, I was struck by something: Yankovic is a fairly attractive guy. Yet he goes out of his way to look like a goon. If early on he had gotten a proper haircut and never, ever grew a mustache, he would have been a mainstay on the cover of Tiger Beat. But I think he likes looking like a goon. And it works perfectly on today’s song, “One More Minute.”

I normally find Weird Al’s work clever. I don’t normally find it outright funny. But “One More Minute” had me laughing throughout. It is a doo-wop song with Jankovic doing his best Elvis in the low register parts of the melody. But rather than being an “I’m in love!” song or “I’m so sad you left me!” song, it is a bitter “Good riddance!” song. Basically, it is a long list of terrible things he would rather do than spend one more minute with her.

The best line in it is probably, “Honey, let me help you with that suitcase.” It kind of reminds me of Jerry Chesnut’s song Good Year for the Roses. In it, the singer is watching his wife pack, and he wants to say something, but all that comes is small talk. But not for our hero in this song. Check it out:

Today’s song is “Jurassic Park.” Elizabeth commented, “Since I think you mentioned you don’t like MacArthur Park, this might cheer you up. Plus claymation!” Well, she was half right. I am a big fan of claymation, and in fact, every kind of animation. One of the great things about never having kids is that you aren’t required to ever act like an adult. (Note to all you parents out there: I know you’re all pretenders!)

But she’s wrong about “MacArthur Park.” I quite admire the song. She was probably referring to when I wrote this, “And ‘MacArthur Park’ from the days when metaphor didn’t embarrass Americans.” But that was a complaint about Americans and not the song.

The truth is that I am not much of a fan of strict metaphor. I find that it no longer leads to great art. Most people, however, are are just fine with metaphor but then scoff in the most affected way when it is used in an emotionally vulnerable way. I think songs like “MacArthur Park” and “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” are great. In fact, they are more than great; they are brave.

“Jurassic Park” is a straight parody of “MacArthur Park.” It is clever, as Weird Al Yankovic songs usually are. It does, however, really show off his weakness as a singer. Richard Harris was a far better singer. But that’s a minor point. The animation is also very good. I personally have no problem with Barney, but I thought it was very funny when his head was bitten off by a “real” dinosaur.

Afterword: Jimmy Webb’s Jurassic Park

I can’t get “MacArthur Park” out of my head. The image of a cake in the rain is so idiosyncratic! Who thinks of such things?! Jimmy Webb obviously. And he claims to have actually seen such a thing. But the reason the image works is because it seems almost unthinkable. Who would leave a cake out in the rain? It speaks to the intensity of the feeling and more than makes up for taking the metaphor to its logical conclusion, “And I’ll never have that recipe again.” Apparently, Jimmy Webb likes “Jurassic Park” very much and has even performed it live.

I think the Morning Music posts have gotten rather boring. It’s just a matter of time and focus. If I weren’t so overworked, I’d be able to inject some passion into the project. But in the mean time, I thought I might inject some of your passion into the process. I’d like you all to give me exercises that I could do. And to start it all, I asked Elizabeth to recommend six Weird Al Yankovic songs, since she seems to like him.

I have nothing against him. I’ve known of him since his early days sending in tapes to Dr Demento. He’s clearly very bright and creative. So this is an opportunity to find out a bit more about him. I checked and it turns out that he is slightly older than I am. I like that time works that way: people that are older than me always will be. Unfortunately, people who are younger than me always will be too. But I don’t know why I care, given that I am always at the perfect age.

As usual, however, I’m totally behind in things. This was the Weekend of the 43,000 Word FAQ. It’s still not done, but I’m at the point where I can hardly see straight. So we’ll do an easy one — a Christmas song. It’s “Christmas at Ground Zero.” It is at least partly Weird Al Yankovic’s homage to Tom Lehrer’s “We Will All Go Together When We Go.” It also makes me think of the great film, Matinee. I suppose we should all try to have a good time as we face our doom.

I remember in 1995, a student of mine telling me the only good thing about the internet was porn. He wasn’t actually making the case for porn; he was more making the case that the internet sucked. He was largely right. But today, the internet really is an amazing thing. In the old days, there would be little gems that people would have. For example, one guy I knew had a cassette he recorded off the radio of three tracks Talking Heads had recorded back in 1975 when they were still a trio. Now, just enter “Talking Heads Demo” into Google and it’s right there. Listen to Psycho Killer.

This doesn’t just apply to Talking Heads, of course. Last week I featured a set of Jules and the Polar Bears that I would have killed for a couple of decades ago. The same is true of the following video, “Talking Heads: Live in Rome.” It captures the band at the height of its power. But I will admit that Adrian Belew is too prominent and should have been mixed down. He does spoil the organic feel of some of the music because he becomes a lead instrument and there really isn’t a lead instrument on either Fear of Music or Remain in Light.

Still, it’s nice to have and quite enjoyable. I like it more than Stop Making Sense which is just too pretentious for me at this stage in my life. Plus, the songs are weaker.

I did kind of want to end Talking Heads with Remain in Light. It’s nice to end on a high note. But the truth is, you can’t blame Talking Heads for never reaching those heights because who reaches those heights? (Well, maybe Jerry Harrison.) But I think I should talk about Speaking in Tongues.

Yes, I put the album down a lot. It’s actually a really good album. But the value of the album depends upon its context. For a lot of people, it was the first thing they heard. And I can imagine, it must have been very exciting. The first thing I heard was Talking Heads 77. And no, I didn’t listen to it in 1977. I discovered Talking Heads all at once in 1981.

I remember the first time I heard anything from Speaking in Tongues. I was at a friend’s house and “Burning Down the House” came on the local radio. I thought it sounded okay, but it didn’t have the depth of anything that was on Remain in Light. But I ran out and got the album. (Well, I ran out and bought it as soon as I got the money. It’s amazing to think back at what a big deal buying a new record was in those days.) And it was fine. But I was expecting Remain in Light II.

Actually, what I was hoping for was something that would surpass Remain in Light as much as it had surpassed Fear of Music. Was that reasonable? Of course not! But I was still in my teens. So I don’t blame people who were introduced to Talking Heads with Speaking in Tongues for thinking that it was great. And as I said, it is really good. But you have to admit, that it gets better if you move back an album.

So what are we going to listen to? Not “This Must Be the Place.” Not because I dislike it. It just doesn’t go that well with the album. So how about “I Get Wild/ Wild Gravity”? Well, you have no choice!

Going through Remain in Light, I find that I’m able to contextualize it far better than I could at the time. (How could it be otherwise? I didn’t know what was coming.) For example, “The Great Curve” points directly to their next album, Speaking in Tongues — although I would argue that it is better than anything on that album. Meanwhile, “Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)” goes back to “I Zimbra” off Fear of Music.

Remain in Light really is the sweet spot in the evolution of the band. It represents that point when they were not a pop band. But they couldn’t hold onto that and so they slipped into straight, mostly uninspired funk, and then into what I can only call straight pop — the kind of thing that is designed for the Billboard charts. Remain in Light inspires me as much today as it did 35 years ago.

I’m going to highlight “Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)” because, well, just listen to it! In this case, the drums and bass are kind of wild. Yet they still nail down the madness that is going on above it. It is probably the most African inspired tune on the album. But again, it isn’t something that sounds added; it is organic. This is probably because the album was a collaborative project. Later Talking Heads albums would turn into more “David Byrne and the Others.” This is why I now have no real interest in seeing a concert by Byrne, but I would be interested in the other three. I know they have performed together in the past. (That’s not to take anything away from Byrne, who I do think is brilliant.)

So here is “Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On),” which, not surprisingly, also seemed to be about some kind of paranoid and isolated person.

Today we get to the greatest Talking Heads album, Remain in Light. And I guess I will spend two days on it. I figure you’ve all heard “Once in a Lifetime,” so let’s skip it. Although I have to admit, that was the song that got me into the album. I love the way that Byrne shouts the lyrics. And the rhythm section part is so infectious. Of course you could say the same thing about everything on the album. You could certainly say it about today’s tune “Crosseyed and Painless.”

Byrne is at his best when he is writing about people who are pathologically alienated from life. I suspect that says something about him, although I’ve never gone out of my way to find out what he is like as a person. He’s always seemed overly intellectual — sort of the way people see me. Of course, they are only partly right about me, and so I’m sure I’m only partly right about Byrne.

Regardless, I love the rap part of “Crosseyed and Painless”: facts are simple and facts are straight; facts are lazy and facts are late; facts all come with points of view; facts don’t do what I want them to… It’s rare that white people — especially of that time — were able to make rap their own. It is absorbed into the music, not poured on like taco sauce to give it a different culture’s taste.

The whole thing is amazing. I often complain about production, but in this case, all the stops are pulled out. The song goes crazy. But that drum and base riff is just unstoppable and it carries us through. It’s amazing to think that the band that started with Talking Heads 77 was able to reach this point of musical brilliance.

When I was younger, I was wild about Talking Heads’ third album, Fear of Music. And it is certainly a great album. But I have to admit to not enjoying it as much now as I did then. I think it is because it is a transitional album. The best example of that is “Life During Wartime.” That song points directly to by far the greatest Talking Heads album, Remain in Light.

I’m not doing any research for these posts, so forgive me for just telling you what I remember. But I recall an interview with Tina Weymouth where she said that while they were working on the song, at least three of them were aware that there was a collaboration going on. It seems that David Byrne was resistant to giving anyone else any credit. But given the later history, we know with some certainty that Byrne is something of a horse’s ass — maybe not as bad as Lou Reed, but also without all the drugs to explain the behavior.

Anyway, the song sounded very new. It seemed the first time that funk and punk really merged together to create something greater. And the lyrics are funny, although I don’t think they are meant to be. David Byrne as a lyric writer has always reminded me of David Lynch as a director: someone very interesting, overly serious, and never quite aware of what he’s doing. That has led to greatness for both men, but also some of the most pretentious nonsense I’ve ever encountered.

“Life During Wartime” features prominently in Stop Making Sense. And it works really well. But it also loses its essential punk feel and becomes more funk with an edge. I don’t think I can explain it. But the album cut is better.