In general, new wave songs do not hold up. There is just something about real (non-synthetic) instruments that never gets old. You may not like classical music, but a violin doesn’t sound stupid. And it isn’t really that synthesizers sound stupid. Listen to Dark Side of the Moon. But in the early 1980s, there was a change going on from analog synths to digital synths. And those early digital synths sucked. They sounded fine at the time but now they make me want to rip my hair out.

But there are songs that manage to overcome this. I’ve discussed this before. But today I offer another such song, Nena’s “99 Luftballons.” I don’t know, maybe it is just one of my blind (Deaf?) spots. Or more likely, the over-polished pop sound of the song just works in contrast to what is actually a really depressing song.

It tells the story of 99 toy balloons being mistaken for alien aircraft. So the military send some fighter jets to check them out. When the pilots find that they are just balloons, they attack them, thinking of themselves as “Captain Kirk.” But everything goes astray as this playful activity is mistaken for an act of war. Thus the 99 balloons lead to 99 years of war and the destruction of the earth.

In some ways, the English translation of the song is better in a purely artistic way. Just the same, it pulls a whole lot of punches. The German song shows far more contempt for the ruling elite. This is a funny thing about Americans: we think of ourselves as such individuals but we yield to power more than most people. And that’s especially true when it comes to the military, which we are supposed to never counter. I’m not too keen on Germany, but this is a damned good pop song.

On Tuesday, I published, 35 Years Without Óscar Romero. This led to my discovering THE PROJECT: Martyrs Prayers. It is a collection of explicitly religious songs about Christian martyrs. On the CD they’ve released, there are ten songs, each about a specific martyr. Interestingly, one of them is “Clement,” which I assume is about Pope Clement I. Personally, I find Clement of Alexandria a more interesting guy — admittedly, not a martyr. But he argued against what I think of as the Saint Sebastian form of martyrdom. The question is, if you are clearly just trying to get yourself killed, are you a martyr? I don’t think so.

The martyrs on this album represent what I consider the real deal. Ultimately, most of the martyrs are political in nature. And that goes right along with my feelings about religion as being fundamentally political — at least when it comes to religion and not ontology. And as you should know, when it comes to politics, I have a great deal of faith. Because what’s the option? Applying the same thing to God isn’t much of a stretch, even if it isn’t something that I personally feel.

I’ve only heard two of the songs: the ones that they’ve produced highly evocative videos for. Interestingly, they are both assassinations. The first is the song “Becket.” But I want to highlight “Romero.” In addition to it being a beautiful song, the video includes lots of footage of Romero himself (something we don’t have for most of the others — although they do include two other 20th century martyrs). It’s really great. Give it a listen:

When I was a kid, I loved the television show Mister Ed. The show ended before my second birthday, so clearly, I saw it in syndication. It is still pretty much the archetype of the kind of comedy that I most enjoy. Mister Ed is basically a puppet character. Indeed, the 1980s television show ALF was just Mister Ed with one change: ALF was a really unappealing character. Mister Ed was charming, if difficult at times.

In one episode, Mister Ed wanted to go to the circus because his father “worked” for it and he had not seen his father since he was little. (Or at all. I don’t actually remember.) For some reason, Wilbur would not take him. So in order to make Wilbur feel guilty, Mister Ed sang the song, “Oh! My Pa-Pa.” Until I was an adult, I only knew the song from Mister Ed’s repeated singing of it. This did not, however, stop me from writing my own parody of it.

The song was originally in the 1950 German musical, Der Schwarze Hecht with the title, “O Mein Papa.” But in 1954, an English translation of the song was a huge hit for pop sensation Eddie Fisher. I’m not that fond of it. But since I can’t find a version with Mister Ed singing it, I guess we are stuck with this:

Afterword

I found it: “What Kind of Foal Am I.” The plot is a bit different than I remembered. But at least there is some basis for my memory.

In 1964, Curtis Mayfield wrote a little song called “People Get Ready.” It is a gospel song, but like the very best gospel song, it seems like a political song. And it can read as a political song — and I choose to do so. Because political action is a matter of faith. For any person who is politically engaged, there are two options: cynicism and faith. And we are at our best when we have faith that things can get better. But it is hard — something I struggle with all the time.

The reason I’m playing the song this morning is because it is a song that gets stuck in my head. And I do truly awful things to the lyrics. I turn it into a foul mouthed and cynical anthem. But I don’t want that. I want to get on board that train and make a better future.

Today, the legendary session bass player Carol Kaye is 80 years old. In the 1950s, she was a bebop jazz guitarist — working a lot in Los Angeles. But in 1957, she just happened to start working in the studio on the first Sam Cooke album. The following year, she created that great guitar part for Ritchie Valens’ hit “La Bamba.” It actually sounds a lot like a bass part, so it isn’t surprising that she went on to be known primarily as a bass player.

Unfortunately, because of the nature of the bass and the generally poor sound quality of YouTube videos, it is hard to find a song to highlight her. Although if you want, you can check out this amazing video of Kaye at 65 years old playing with Steve Bailey and Victor Wooten jamming at a National Association of Music Merchants meeting. The music isn’t that interesting, but it is amazing to hear all these musical titans playing together. She still has it.

Here she is playing bass on Joe Cocker’s version of “Feelin’ Alright”:

I think we desperately need a little Mozart this morning. And I’ll tell you, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik seems like the perfect thing. All those counterpoint lessons really paid off late in his career. Yet in his hands, it doesn’t seem at all technical. It’s pure brilliance, which is why well over two centuries after its composition, literally every person I’ve ever met knows it. And thus, I don’t think we need to listen to it. (But if you prefer, YouTube has Les Dissonances doing a very capable job of it.)

Instead, let’s listen to the last movement of Mozart’s Piano concerto No 15. Here is a delightful performance by the Estonian pianist Kalle Randalu. He isn’t nearly as old as he looks. But then, he’s a lot older than he plays. It is beautiful:

Today, I thought we might listen to what it sounds like when Americans aspire to be Serge Gainsbourg. The one word answer: adorable. Thus, I present you to you Les Sans Culottes. It is a band out of New York that has made a whole career out of pretending to be a French rock band. So all their songs are in French and they speak with outrageous French accents. I don’t know what they do when they perform in France — which they did a few years back.

It is hard not to love the band. At least to me, they are the very definition of fun. They perform upbeat, slightly sexy, music. They are playful and often irreverent. And above all, they do not take what they do seriously, even as they perform admirably. The first song of theirs I heard was the infectious Allô Allô. You should check it out; it’s really good. But I wanted to show you something more along the lines of Gainsbourg. So below is “Les Sauvages” off their third album, Faux Realism.

The band is not terribly successful in a commercial sense. They don’t generally play more a couple dozen gigs per year — almost all of them in New York. They did do a short tour of France in 2009 and a west coast tour in 2008. No doubt as a result, they have a dizzying array of band members. Part of the problem is no doubt that I’m the kind of person who likes them: someone who doesn’t much go out to concerts. But we can enjoy their records at home. Or right here:

The other day, a client mentioned the song “911 Is a Joke” by Public Enemy. Since the song was released after 1980, I had not heard it. But I was pleased that I actually knew who Public Enemy are. That probably has a lot more to do with their politics than their music, although I certain have heard “Fight the Power.”

“911 Is a Joke” is about the situation — probably as true today as it was then — of very slow response times for paramedics when calls came from African American neighborhoods. As with most music of that time, the song is haunted by its use of electronic sounds that were great then but over used. But it is still catchy and enjoyable.

I read something painful on Wikipedia, “According to law professors Peter DiCola and Kembrew McLeod, if the samples used on ‘911 Is a Joke’ and the other tracks on Fear of a Black Planet had been cleared for copyright under 2010 rates, each copy of the album would have generated a loss of five dollars per album sold, instead of a profit.” As regular readers know: I think our copyright system is out of control. Here is yet another example of how copyright decreases innovation and creative work.

Can you believe that Vera Lynn is 98 years old today? She was an icon of World War II Britain where she became know as “The Forces’ Sweetheart” because of her efforts entertaining the troops. This was mostly in the form of a radio program Sincerely Yours where she would send out cheerful thoughts and sing songs that they had requested. She is, of course, best know for the song “We’ll Meet Again.”

I know the song originally from the ending of Dr Strangelove. It is played over visuals of atomic bombs exploding, as the world comes to an end. It’s cheeky good fun. Just the same, the song does go rather well with those images. And it gets at my general belief that as we destroy ourselves, we will be singing a happy song.

Many years later, Roger Waters wrote a kind of response with, “Vera Lynn.” Waters’ father died during World War II, so the two did not, in fact, meet again. That song starts, “Does anybody here remember Vera Lynn? Remember how she said that we would meet again one sunny day?” But it is perhaps best not to over-think popular music. I wonder how good The Wall will sound 75 years out. “We’ll Meet Again” still sounds pretty nice:

We have quite a treat this morning — at least for me! There is some actual live video of Richard Hell and the Voidoids from the late 1970s. They were an amazing, crazy band. Richard Hell started the band after Television threw them out of that band. And in their way, the band was as good as any in the New York punk scene. What I like about them is that they always seem like they are about to come apart, but they are solid.

This video is of “Love Comes In Spurts” — probably the best rock song title of all time. It includes a typically great guitar solo by Robert Quine. He looks distinctly out of place. But it is remarkable to think that he was already pushing forty at that time. Also on guitar is the under-rated Ivan Julian. There is also a nice clip of the band doing Blank Generation.

Do you know what happened this week? Dancing With the Stars reappeared on the television. Just knowing that makes me feel dirty. I would go take a bath, but I’m not that keen on bathing. But somehow, the world must be cleansed. We could use many things, but at the moment I don’t feel like any Dead Kennedys or Minutemen. And given that I’ve been thinking a lot about Jules Shear, I thought it might be nice to listen to some of Pal Shazar’s music.

It really is hard to choose. For one thing, she just isn’t well enough known to have a lot of material online. And nothing is quite perfect for the occasion. But I’ve decided on “Hang Me” from Shazar No 5. But People Talk and When I First Met You are also excellent.

I was listening to a recent episode of Democracy Now! and they used a bit of this amazing song and so I had to find it. It was “Be Free” by J Cole. I had never heard of him before, of course. He was only born in 1985 and I don’t listen to much music that was even produced after that, so it isn’t surprising. But I get assaulted with so many American Idol shouters that I forget that there are a lot of people out there doing amazing work.

I will have to check out more of this work. From the little that I’ve listened to, it hearkens back to that old R&B music that we old white people like so much. I’m not surprised that he’s so popular.