alternative sounds takes a break

As if this blog wasn't irregular enough, I'm taking a break for about a couple of months.

My iMac, which has the program that converts my songs into the Flash format you listen to here, has died on me. I'm still thinking whether to buy a new one or have it fixed. Either way, it'll take a while before my online life is back on track. If you wish to know when I start blogging again, please e-mail me at alternativesounds {at} gmail.com

Now as to why I've been quiet for a longer while than usual, yes, that was a bit rude, not making good on my promise of a diverse all-women March. Weird as it may sound, my frame of mind has just been focused on something else. Since my last post, I've not only quit my job, but I've also left the world of journalism where I spent many happy years. Truth is, I had long been wanting to shift careers, but it was never easy for me to do, being in a place the language of which I don't speak, and not having letters of higher learning after my name. You can imagine how happy I was when I got this new job – the title and description will bore you, but it's exactly what I'd been looking for – and so I wanted to make sure that my mind was a fresh, clean slate before my first day. I'm still going through a learning curve, but I think I'll be fine.

In other news, I had 10 days off in between jobs, and during that time, I finally had the chance to organize my CDs. I think I overdid it. I separately alphabetized my English-language and world-music albums by artist name. Then I stacked my compilation CDs by genre and alphabetized them by album title, then my soundtrack albums by film title, and then my freebie CDs by the names of the magazines they came from.

I've also been buying a lot of new albums. Here are some of them, and it pains me that I can't blog about them just yet:

• Air : Pocket Symphony
• Andrew Bird : Armchair Apocrypha
• The Arcade Fire : Neon Bible
• Archie Bronson Outfit : Derdang Derdang
• Arctic Monkeys : Favourite Worst Nightmare
• Bright Eyes : Cassadaga
  
• Clap Your Hands Say Yeah : Some Loud Thunder
• Everybody Else : Eponymous
  
• Grinderman : Eponymous
• Kings of Leon : Because of the Times
• LCD Soundsystem : Sound of Silver
• Low : Drums and Guns
  
• Matt Costa : Songs We Sing
• Modest Mouse : We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
• Rodrigo y Gabriela : Eponymous
  
• The Shins : Wincing The Night Away
• Tracy Thorn : Out of the Woods

Anyway. I was actually able to convert three songs into Flash before my iMac died. Here's the rest of what I promised last month.

fall at your feet : mary black

click here or on the image below to listen

Fall At Your Feet by Crowded House ranks high up in my favorite songs of all time, and this cover version doesn't disappoint. Mary Black, an Irish folk artist, made it her own and even infused a lot more emotion than the original.

zomaye : gigi
click here or on the image below to listen

A strong reminder that some of the best beats in music can be heard outside the English-speaking world. Gigi is from Ethiopia.

recovery : new buffalo

click here or on the image below to listen

I saw this act in Sydney last year. Very good.

women's march : part 2

These are some of my favorite female artists from the 90s whose work I still find immensely relevant to this day. The 90s was a great era for women in music. There was so much diversity in rock alone: from Hole to Mazzy Star to PJ Harvey to Tracy Bonham. These are the ones I listened to the most.

sinéad o'connor : red football
sinéad o'connor : sacrifice
click here or on the image below to listen

Did you know that more women aged 15 to 44 suffer death or disability from domestic violence than from war, cancer, malaria, and road accidents combined? Sad but true. I grew up in a household full of strong, nurturing women, who selflessly raised, educated, and provided for me and my siblings. It's simply beyond my understanding why women should suffer from violence at home and from biases in the workplace, politics, and many other facets of society. Not a lot of female pop artists take up these issues in their work, but you can't blame them. Any form of entertainment is less likely to have mass appeal when its content is heavy. Never one for commercial success, Red Football is doubtlessly Sinéad O'Connor's most up-front statement about women's rights. What this song achieves is it delivers an unequivocal message without being moralistic. Indeed, calling an end to violence against women no longer needs to simply appeal to people's morals. It needs to confront. It needs to provoke. It needs to agitate, as the ending of this song does. Of course, Sinéad is not only to be appreciated for her bravery, but also for her vocal uniqueness. Which is why I also have to post Sacrifice, her cover of Elton John's song about infidelity, which Sinéad delivers with unfurling anger. You will notice the change in her tone when she sings "We lose direction, no stone unturned." Even for a Sinéad song, Sacrifice is heavy on the reverb, but it only highlights what she can do with her voice.

paula cole : happy home

click here or on the image below to listen

If you knew Paula Cole from her breakthrough album, This Fire, you would know that Happy Home, from her debut album Harbinger, is anything but happy. In fact, it's about the opportunities women miss and the compromises they make, willingly or otherwise, when they carry out the roles of wife and mother. But what's good about this song is it's a story of two people: the mother suffering a crisis of what defines her identity, and the well-meaning daughter trying to figure out what is going on. It reminds me of the relationship between the young son and his mother, played by Julianne Moore, in that excellent film, The Hours. Best line: But everybody could feel the suffocation underneath the façade of a happy home. Best part: The mix of acoustic and electric after the bridge where she sings "Home sweet freedom, flowing in my mind."

crossroads : tracy chapman

click here or on the image below to listen

Yes, I know Crossroads came out in 1989. But like many, I had dismissed Tracy Chapman as a one-hit-album wonder until she released Give Me One Reason in 1995. The album where it's from, New Beginning, renewed my interest in her music. So while I listened to the spawns of the grunge era in the 90s, I was also rediscovering her sound, which is why I will always associate this song with the 90s. There's a lot of sorrow in her music, but she never makes them sound hopeless or desperate. Her voice doesn't have the range or versatility that the rest of the artists here have, but it beats in itself, not with anger, but with willpower. Hers is the voice of quiet defiance, which you will hear in Crossroads, a song about a woman's refusal to make compromises. Best Line: Standing at the point, the road it cross you down, what is at your back, which way do you turn. Best Part: The intro hooked me to the rest of the song.

caught a light sneeze : tori amos

click here or on the image below to listen

I'm not a Toriphile, but I did enjoy her music immensely from Under the Pink to Boys for Pele. The albums that came after were just too labored for my taste, until she released Scarlet's Walk in 2002, where she became a watered-down version of her old self. That said, what I like most about old Tori is not so much her lyrics as her voice and sound, from the restraint of Merman to the more elaborate arrangement of Tear In Your Hand. Most of the time, her lyrics are too coded for me to comprehend; I don't think I've ever agreed with anyone about what Silent All These Years means. Caught A Light Sneeze is no less difficult, but there are enough hints to say it's about the meltdown of her relationship with Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails. The reference to Pretty Hate Machine, the album that catapulted NIN to fame, is a giveaway. Best line: I need a big loan from a girl zone. (I have no idea what it means, but it sure sounds good the way she sings it.) Best part: How she stretches "building tumbling down" at the chorus.

ghost : indigo girls

click here or on the image below to listen

I first learned about the Indigo Girls when their album Swamp Ophelia was given to me as a birthday present by someone I dated. While the relationship didn't last long – it was in fact my shortest ever – the impact of Emily Saliers and Amy Ray's music on me did. I was so impressed by that album that I immediately looked for their prior work and discovered Rites of Passage, where Ghost is from. Where do I even begin to talk about this song? It's a gem. It captures you with its quiet start, then with the lyrics bit by bit, and then ultimately with its totality. Your appreciation of it grows the more you hear it. There's so much beauty in this song that every time you listen to it again, you're touched by one aspect that's different from the last – a poetic line, Emily's tearful wail, Amy's somber backing, or the way their fingers slide on their guitars. What first struck me was the first line in the chorus – There's not enough room in this world for my pain. It sounds so sincere that it reaches out to your own sense of pain and longing. The best line? It's hard to choose, but it would probably be from the final verse: This bitter pill I swallow is the silence that I keep, It poisons me I can't swim free, the river is too deep. The best part? I love the bridge, where Emily delivers an evocative wail, followed by a reversal of the duo's vocal roles.

women's march : part 1

March is all-women month at Alternative Sounds, being that part of the year when we celebrate International Women's Day, which is on the 8th. I thought I'd make a conscious attempt to increase the representation of female artists in this blog. This first installment consists of artists from the 80s. The next one will be from the 90s, followed by women of folk and women from around the world.

all i want : susanna hoffs

click here or on the image below to listen

Before there was Lisa Loeb, before there was Natalie Imbruglia, before there were Frente!, Luscious Jackson and The Corrs, there was Susanna Hoffs. The most prominent one-fourth of The Bangles was the original pop-rock sweetheart, who exuded vulnerable sexuality with her delicately saccharine voice and wistful acoustic guitar. To someone growing up in the 80s and who was just beginning to form his own hormonally influenced notion of an ideal woman, Susanna Hoffs was the definitive girlfriend material. Madonna was too wild. Cyndi Lauper was too weird. Bananarama were just too...bleached. With her hoop earrings, tapered jeans and Aqua Net-architectured curls, Hoffs came out of VH1 and MTV like a singing porcelain doll, a small, shapely creature with the face of an angel, graced by a full set of lips that broke into a disarming smile, and wide eyes that charmed every time they half-closed. In other words, Susanna Hoffs was the first female artist that gave me the bone. She came to her peak in 1989 when the band released Eternal Flame – that irresistibly mushy ballad to undying love, the first three words of which provoke a universal sigh. But at age 48 – basking in the acclaim of Under The Covers, her 2006 album of duets with Matthew Sweet – Hoffs is still beguiling as ever, outlasting her 90s facsimiles, while her voice has hardly changed. I'm posting her 1996 cover of the Lightning Seeds classic All I Want, which she manages to make cute and edgy with her trademark rasp at the chorus. She only changes the instrumentation, giving it a minimalist treatment but keeping to the pace and form of the original. Best line: Confidence, coincidence, call it a sin, it's just like people say. Best part: I love the drums at the intro and the jangle of acoustic guitar at the first chorus.

soap and water : suzanne vega

click here or on the image below to listen

If you're not new to this blog, you may have noticed the new personality in the header art. Why didn't I think of putting Suzanne Vega up there in the first place? I've been a fan since Luka, which I realized even at 13 or 14 was a remarkable song. I had been exposed to pop music dealing with social issues before, or since I cared enough to actually mull over the lyrics – from famine (Do They Know It's Christmas?) to war (State of the Nation) to teen pregnancy (Papa Don't Preach) – but somethig was different about Luka. For one, whoever thought of writing a song about child abuse from the point of view of the child? (If you hear something late at night, some kind of trouble, some kind of fight, just don't ask me what it was) The words are haunting enough; the melody couldn't have accompanied them better. The brilliance of the songwriting becomes even sharper when compared with What's The Matter Here? by 10,000 Maniacs, about the same theme, released on the same year (1987). (I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses, he's your kid, do as you see fit.) Make no mistake – the song, written by vocalist Natalie Merchant, is equally brilliant, but Luka is more poetic and empathetic. In fact, a poet who happens to sing is what Suzanne Vega is. Her songs are always full of symbolism. It's not always obvious, but it speaks to you in ways only you can understand – just listen to Gypsy. Luka is one of the easy ones; Soap And Water is another – a song about a couple's separation and how it ravages the emotions of the child. But see how beautiful she illustrates tragedy: Soap and water, wash the year from my life, straighten all that we trampled and tore, heal the cut we call husband and wife. It's hard to think of another female singer-songwriter who approximates her intelligence. Best line: The verse I just quoted. Best part: The six guitar notes that run throughout the song.

circle dream : 10,000 maniacs

click here or on the image below to listen

Resolute is one of the words I use to describe Natalie Merchant's voice. It's an amazing instrument she has. You hear her sing, and you know she's out to make a statement – from depression (Like The Weather, which you can listen to right here) to media desensitization (Candy Everybody Wants) to unwanted pregnancy (Eat For Two). Or at least that's what I think the last song is about. Motherhood is a theme that Merchant writes about with emotional acuity, free of clichés and mawkish testimonies. Circle Dream, from the band's 1992 album Our Time In Eden, is a celebration of life – and here you'll see some parallelism between her and Suzanne Vega's songwriting, because it's written from the voice of the unborn child. Best line: Her warmth coming near, calling me "Sweetness," calling me "Dear." Best part: Natalie's own backing and harmony vocals.

say, whatever happened to...

I had this idea for a post after watching the Grammys a few weeks ago and seeing Dixie Chicks receive their award for Song of the Year. The award is a songwriting honor, and it was nice to see a long-lost face go up on stage. Dan Wilson, of the post-grunge band Semisonic, co-wrote the song with the Chicks. The sight of him made me wonder what had become of him and his contemporaries. Semisonic emerged in 1998 with the hit Closing Time, and disappeared soon after. A song Wilson wrote was included in the soundtrack to American Pie in 1999 – a duet with Bic Runga which you can listen to right here – and that was the last I heard of him. So now he appears to be back, not just as a songwriter, but also as a solo artist. MTV.com reports that Wilson will release the album Free Life this summer. Anyway, Dan looks like a good guy, and sounds like it too, and I wish him luck. In the meantime, here are a couple of his contemporaries who have gone up in smoke:

pathfinder : gay dad

click here or on the image below to listen

Also known as Cliff Jones, Gay Dad released Leisure Noise in 1999, which was decent enough to make it somewhere at the bottom of a few year-end-best-albums lists. But with a name like that, and a sound that was neither original nor innovative, Gay Dad was never taken seriously. Their sophomore album, Transmission, was a considerable flop, although some thought it to be better than the first. The band has split up since, and I have no idea what Jones is up to now. I have the full Leisure Noise in my iPod; I think the songs are pleasant enough to keep. Pathfinder is my favorite, because it manages to be emotionally playful – a rousing intro, a wounded refrain, a carefree chorus, and a torrid bridge – without being messy. The post-Siamese Dream Smashing Pumpkins is a bit like that, and Pathfinder actually reminds me of the pacing of Perfect and 1979 – not to mention that Jones occasionally sounds like Billy Corgan. Best line: You know that crying won't help you now, if it ever did at all. Best part: The vocals in the bridge, 2m 08s into the song.

someday we'll know : new radicals

click here or on the image below to listen

Now here's a band whose loss is regrettable. The New Radicals burst into the scene in 1999 with their album Maybe You've Been Brainwashed Too, and their debut single, You Get What You Give, was a smash hit. I loved its video of chaos in a mall. The song was a standout, and the album brought a freshly loose pop sound that was clearly veering away from the angst that had defined rock for the most part of the decade. Sadly, the New Radicals disbanded before the release of the second single, which is this song. Band leader Gregg Alexander went on to become almost a Grammy winner. Like Dan Wilson, he worked behind the scenes, and wrote and produced The Game of Love, the 2002 duet between Santana and Michelle Branch, which won the following year for best pop collaboration with vocals. In Someday We'll Know, Alexander gives a jocular twist to the familiar sigh over a star-crossed relationship – both in lyrics and in tone. The song is full of wit – Did the captain of the Titanic cry? Someday we'll know – and he delivers it with unsentimental sincerity. Best line: Whatever happened to Amelia Earhart? Best part: When he sings "Why aren't you here with me?", 2m 47s into the song.

with love from bollywood

dil kya kare : adnan sami

click here or on the image below to listen

This was supposed to be a Valentine post. The last month has been both hectic and nerve-wracking. I had a fascinating business trip to India to report on the business of Bollywood, which sort of explains why I'm putting these two songs up. You probably know that the Indian film industry is the largest in the world, producing over a thousand films a year, or thrice as much as Hollywood. But did you also know that it used to be funded in large part by the underworld? That changed in 2001 when the government officially recognized film-making as an industry, which meant financial institutions could now lend to film-makers. Also, Bollywood actually refers only to the Hindi-language film industry, which is based in Mumbai (formerly Bombay, hence Bollywood). Hindi films make up just a fourth of the total output; the rest are in the couple dozen other languages in India, but largely Tamil and Malayalam, spoken in the south. Anyway, it probably is true that most Indian films stick to the formula of boy meets girl, are pulled apart, but end up happily together – with often outlandish song-and-dance numbers in posh MTV-like sets or against Alpine mountains (yes, some of them do film in Switzerland in lieu of Kashmir, an area of conflict between India and Pakistan). And because music from films is so pervasive in India, the two industries are hard to separate. But before I bore you with any more details, let's get on with the songs, and the movie they're from.

salaam-e-ishq : various artists

click here or on the image below to listen

These two songs come from the film Salaam-e-Ishq, or Tribute to Love, a minor hit in spite of the number of A-list Bollywood actors in the cast. I was told that part of the reason is it veers away from the formula described above, following instead the lives of six couples intersecting in the end. (Critics liken it to Love, Actually, which I haven't seen in full.) I saw it in Mumbai (without subtitles, but the plot was easy to follow) and I thought it was way too long at 3h 45m, and some of the story lines were simply not compelling enough. (I especially liked the couple living in London where the middle-aged husband falls for a much younger dance instructor, the Delhi man who can't commit to marrying his girlfriend, and the British girl who goes to Udaipur to stop her boyfriend's arranged marriage with an Indian girl.) But I think it's pretty much universally agreed that the soundtrack is outstanding. I love these two songs the most: Dil Kya Kare because it's tender and sweet, and the seven-minute title track which is a dance tune that still has a largely traditional sound. I'm posting the lyrics to Dil Kya Kare below, because I asked what it's about in a travel forum, and someone was kind enough to translate it for me. Below is his translation, which I have liberally amended in some parts.

We're back to regular programming after this post.

Dil Kya Kare
(What's the Heart to Do?)


In the slow searing night
I burn in the rain
I drown in memories
What's the heart to do?
I am lost in myself
There is something I wish to say
But something else escapes my mouth
I endure this strange pain
What's the heart to do?

Through a meeting of the eyes
Through an exchange of words
Someone has taken
Someone has given
Salutations to love

Everyday it feels as though I'm missing something
I do not know what it is I wish for
I am alone in the crowd
What's the heart to do?

I have forgotten the day, the month, the year
I sweat in January
I am not comfortable in any place
If I sit I forget to get up

I head for the door but I keep walking about
Restlessness has set in
I laugh while I cry
Someone moves about in my memory
Whether I am asleep or awake
Why do I lose my way?
Why do I hum endlessly?

I set out in tattered jeans
Unaware whether I'm wearing a shirt
Or if a button is undone
The heartbeat plays all kinds of tunes
What's the heart to do?

déjà vu all over again : the best songs of 2006

As the new year has come, it struck me as a good idea to revisit 2006 and list the best songs of the past year. The thought of a creating compilation excited me, and I knew it wasn't going to be too difficult since I already knew my favorites. The only challenge was whittling them down to 34 and trying to see how to best group them in two. Thirty-four is not a number I picked for the sake of being random. I still make mix tapes ("mix CDs" just doesn't roll well off the tongue) with the intention of sharing and sending them to friends, and 17 just happens to be the average number of songs I can burn in a normal CD. 

In these mixes, you'll clearly see that the first puts together songs that rock, and the second, songs of a more folksy nature. Now, the diligent mix tape nerd will disregard the fact that most people now listen to music on their computers or iPods in shuffle mode, and will take pains putting the songs in proper sequence. You just don't throw them into a pot; you have a whole set of issues to think about. Do you start with a bang or do you gradually build up the mood? Can you follow a song that ends abruptly with one that starts slowly? How do you make a transition between two completely different genres? Can you build a story out of your song choices? Admittedly, I factored all these when I started to make this set, but in the end I left it up to the wisdom of iTunes: I sorted them by song length, shortest first. And you know what? I'm happy with the way it turned out. I hope you enjoy listening to them as much as I did putting them together.

Best of 2006 Mix 1

click here or on the image above to stream the entire list, or

click on the titles below to listen to the songs individually

1. Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured : Arctic Monkeys
2. Nausea : Beck
3. Portrait : Upper Room
4. Long Distance Call : Phoenix
5. You Only Live Once : The Strokes
6. You & I : Graham Coxon
7. Have A Good Time : Morning Runner
8. Stadiums & Shrines II : Sunset Rubdown
9. Into The Ocean : Blue October
10. Mr. Tough : Yo La Tengo
11. Somewhere Down The River : Elf Power
12. Typical : MuteMath
13. Dead Funny : Archie Bronson Outfit
14. The Clock : Thom Yorke
15. Postcards From Italy : Beirut
16. The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song : The Flaming Lips
17. Young Bride : Midlake

Best of 2006 Mix 2

click here or on the image above to stream the entire list, or

click on the titles below to listen to the songs individually

1. Summertime : Josh Rouse
2. Yours And Mine : Calexico
3. Love You More : Alexi Murdoch
4. Irene : Rose Melberg
5. This Voice : Ane Brun
6. Thief About To Break In : Teitur
7. Born In The 70s : Ed Harcourt
8. Half-Assed : Ani Difranco
9. Lucile (Where Did The Love Go?) : M. Craft
10. Oh People : Tim Easton
11. Yellow Taxi : Matt Costa
12. Splendid Isolation : Pete Yorn
13. Forget About You : Cary Brothers
14. Rootless Tree : Damien Rice
15. Brighter Discontent : The Submarines
16. It's Beginning To Get To Me : Snow Patrol
17. Young Folks : Peter Bjorn & John

new in my top 25

Most played songs in my iPod, that is.

mid-november : johnathan rice

click here or on the image below to listen

A fitting post given that we have just crossed that part of the month. There seems to be so much Johnathan Rice is trying to say in this song, but I can't get through the lyrics. What's the story behind it? While it speaks of war, I can't make out if it's literal. The mention of death and coins on the eyes – a reference to the ancient practice of placing copper coins on the eyes of soldiers who died at war, according to the movie Troy – made me think it is. I have an outrageous theory. The narrator is the spirit of a soldier in a war, wounded and fighting for his life. He visits his loved one, finds her restless in her bed, and wonders if she somehow knows of his condition. This is probably nowhere near what Rice had in mind, but nonetheless I find Mid-November gravely sentimental, especially with that voice that seems to have just been squeezed out of clinical depression. Feel free to share your ideas.

please don't send me away : matthew jay

click here or on the image below to listen

Here's another song that breathes with trouble and secrecy. Following the lyrics, one might immediately look at it as a paternal discourse. But Matthew Jay was not even 24 when he wrote the song – that was his age when he died from falling from the seventh floor of a building – so it might be that it was his conscience, personified by his father, speaking to him. Torment, after all, comes in many voices. I'm not familiar with Jay's life story, but it looks like suicide was never ruled out as a cause of his fall, and I think his family even volunteered the information that he left no note. It's probably just me, but the words, especially the last three lines of the song, read like a self-addressed farewell from someone who expected way too much from himself and failed to meet his own expectations. Ah, but I think I'm being too morbid.

way of the sun : archer prewitt

click here or on the image below to listen

I don't normally like the sound of everyday objects or even nature being used in a song, and the chime or music box effect at the intro of Way Of The Sun is no exception. But the rest of this clever and striking post-apocalyptic song makes it a worthwhile listen. Think of a massive disaster that cost lives and property and imagine people huddled on rooftops waiting for evacuation. That's the image I get from the third and fourth verses of this song. And as if the lyrics aren't enough to hint at salvation, "Ave Maria" is invoked. I thought it was an unnecessary turn, but here I am talking about it, which means it did its job of calling attention to itself. But what follows after that – a series of claps – is a charming melodic transition to the gradual, restrained ending of the song.

Anyway. I'll try to post newer songs next. I'm off to get Teitur's latest album. I can't wait.

grumpy old men

end the vietnam war : allen ginsberg

anarchy : utah phillips

click on either title to listen

Off to Singapore for a business trip; I will be back this weekend. Here are a couple of old anti-war records, which are as much as I can say about the war in Iraq right now. The Democratic Party's midterm election victory pleases me; I would love to see a reduction of troops there, along with a decisive strategy as far as the government of the country is concerned – one that takes into consideration the differences of the domestic political forces there, and that will preserve lives and prevent Iraq from spiralling further down the hell hole the Bush administration has buried it in. I am now especially eager to find out what happens about Iran. As far as I know, an attack on the Islamic Republic had been a done deal even before the midterms. I count on the Democrat-led Congress to change that. Iran and more importantly the Iranian people do not deserve any form of military hostility regardless of the government's claim that its nuclear program would be completed by March. To be sure, Iran does seem to want to annihilate Israel – I've seen the propaganda posters all over Tehran myself, having visited Iran last July. But my feeling is, the intent is nothing more than that: a propaganda perpetrated by the mullahs for whatever purpose they are trying to achieve. To preempt this empty threat by attacking Iran on the back of the failure in Iraq is neither morally nor politically astute.

introducing alternative tales

Alright, as some of you may know, I write for a living, and that what I write in my daily grind is nowhere near what I want to be writing about. I used to write a lot fiction and poetry, but I've stopped. I plan to change that, and just to make it more fun to do, since music is also my foremost interest, I've decided to combine both music and fiction.

And so I'm going to try to run this series: alternative tales : stories from my ipod. Essentially, this is my self-imposed mental exercise, and it will only work with your help.

Here's what you do: Give me a song, pick a line from that song, and then give me a name, place, or object.

And here's what I'll do: I'll write a flash fiction – a very short story of 250 to 1,000 words – about or inspired by that song, throwing in the line and name, place, or object you picked. Anything but rap, metal, country and bubblegum pop.

To start, I give you Rudie Can't Fail – from the song of the same title by The Clash. A member of a forum I often visit suggested it, and he chose the line "How you get a rude and a reckless, don't you be so crude and a feckless, you been drinking brew for breakfast, Rudie can't fail." His person is Mother Teresa.

And so it is. Let me know what you think, and don't forget to make your own suggestions.

rudie can't fail : the clash
click here or on the image below to listen

Rudie took one final drag of his cigarette as he walked from the side of his car to the green-gray gate of the old house. "Today's the day," he said to himself. He rang the bell and craned his neck to look through the glass window that let the orange mid-afternoon sun wash over the musty living room inside. He could hear muffled voices and the clacking of shoes against the creaking wooden floor on his approach.

It had only been two weeks since his last visit, yet his father seemed to have aged a decade. Whatever it was that was eating his brain was also doing a good job at tearing his body apart. Rudie felt a tinge of pity for the man, whose once-proud military build now lay slouched on a tattered couch, head bowed down, left hand limply resting on the handle of his cane, right hand gripping a rolled-up newspaper – the same newspaper he had been holding for five years now, the one that had a picture of the crash that killed his wife. He had been driving and had fallen asleep, and in his guilt, Rudie believed, almost willfully drove himself to senility.

Rudie hunkered down to greet his father, yet again failed to look straight into his eyes for even a second. The dark spots that ringed his neck had formed a map, while the surface of his skin, nearly transparent in its whiteness, seemed to peel away from the flesh of his face. Rudie was taken aback when his father turned his eyes to grab his – a brief, fiery look of recognition that quickly melted into an empty, hopeless gaze. "How are you, Papa?" he asked, and when there was no answer, Rudie wrapped his hand over his father’s papery wrist, surprised both by its warmth and strong pulse. He eased down to his fist and tried to gently pry the newspaper from his fingers so he could hold his hand, but it only provoked a blow to the side of his head.

"How you get a-rude and a-reckless? Don't you be so crude and a-feckless!" his father howled, his voice mechanical, his eyes unmoved. From the vault of phrases he had uttered in the past that now sprung randomly from his mouth, that was a new yet familiar rebuke. Rudie's V-shaped scar at the tip of his eyebrow reminded him when his father had said it. He was fifteen, stumbling into the kitchen one morning, sneaking from the back door after a night of drunken disappearance. Rudie didn’t expect to find his father waiting. He grabbed Rudie by the collar, smelled his breath, and demanded in a guttural hush, "You been drinking brew for breakfast?" Before Rudie could say a word, he found himself thrown to the floor, his temple hitting the sharp corner of a chair. "Oh, so you care about me all of a sudden?" he shouted back as he wiped the stream of blood from his cheek. That was when his father said the line – humorous in its unintentional rhyme, callous in its unequivocal threat.

"Rudie can’t fail," came a crumpled voice from a woman sitting next to his father. "Did you bring me those vegetables from the market, Rudie?" She called herself Mother Teresa, although she looked nowhere near the late saint of the gutter. Tall and overbuilt, she one day mysteriously appeared at the doorstep of the house with blood running down her legs, carrying a single bag of clothes and a stack of post-dated checks that went on to the next seven years. No more aware, she had been his father’s companion since. Rudie squeezed her hand, stood up, and brought his father to his feet. Mother Teresa stiffened, turned to face Rudie, and asked weakly, "It’s time, isn’t it, Rudie?" He smiled and nodded. "Goodbye, George," she said.

Rudie guided his father to his room and gave him a glass of water before laying him down in his bed. There were pictures of his mother on the bedside table, on the wall next to the crucifix, on the mirror in the cabinet. "Happy birthday, Papa," he said, remembering the last time his father had been in his senses. He had gone to see Rudie in his house, but refused to come inside in spite of the rain. "I don’t have much to say, son," he had said. "Just take this and don’t fail me." And that was it – an envelope in his hand, an obligation to fulfill. Rudie took the will out of his pocket. He knew he needed to read the last line when this moment came, even though he'd had it memorized for five years. He whispered a prayer and wiped the tear that fell from his eye. He kissed his father on his forehead, and pressed a needle in his arm. George brought the newspaper to his chest, and pulled his final breath.

holiday pics anyone?

I'm taking care of a backlog project here. Apart from the songs, below are links to picture galleries from my last two summer holidays. The first is from the Cyclades Islands in Greece where the significant other and I spent about a couple of weeks this July; the second is from Oaxaca, part of my three-week Mexico trip in July last year. Oaxaca isn't actually in good shape right now, and I sure hope they sort things out pronto.

Listen to the songs I'm posting while you, it is my hope, enjoy the pictures. The songs and the pictures don't exactly go together, but these are the bands I've been listening to lately, having just bought their latest Best Of compilations. The Tragically Hip and Gomez are underrated bands I like. TTH live up to the tragic in their name. These talented Canadians, who pre-date the recent wave of bands north of the US border such as The Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade and even The New Pornographers, should be bigger than they are. In fact, they've been around since 1983. Gomez, likewise, came before the Brit wave that we are still seeing. And even though they have a Mercury Prize to prove their worth, admittedly, I think they were never as exciting as the fresher lot are. They're finding new popularity, however, after Grey's Anatomy used one of their new songs, a boost they could certainly use.

So. Click on the titles to listen to the songs, which will pop up in a new window as usual, then click on the pictures to go to the galleries. They will open in this same page, but there's a link back if you want to return.

scared : the tragically hip

click on the title to listen

click on the picture to see greece

diskoloadout : gomez

click on the title to listen

click on the picture to see oaxaca

sometimes i am such a wuss

auto rock : mogwai

click here or on the image below to listen

Has a song ever made you cry, and not in a contemptuous smart-ass kind of way? In the wide range of human emotions, nothing is as confusing and unreal as shedding a tear over a song that has no sentimental meaning to you. I was standing at a bus stop the other day, staring at nothing, listening to my iPod as usual. The morning had been perfectly ordinary: a slice of bread, a swig of orange juice, fumbling for my keys, waiting for the elevator, a foggy distance, an old man walking his dog, a breath of autumn, missing the 8:40. I could have called for a cab but instead I decided to wait for the next bus. Alone at the shed, I crossed my arms by force of habit, and rested my back against the billboard. There was nothing in particular to occupy the mind. I focused on the music. What was this quiet intro? An 18-second soundtrack to the birth of the universe? And then came the piano, calling, heaving, a stirring succession of notes pulling me out of my early morning indifference. And before I knew it, an invisible lump had built up in my chest, pounding with every beat of the drums, growing larger as the volume rose, and finally forcing a tear from the corner of my eye. I looked down and pressed my lips against my fist. Another tear fell. I turned my back to wipe my cheek. The pounding only grew louder. Was this a never-ending crescendo? All I could do was wait for the song to end, and it did with little warning, a sudden break after a rush, like a rug pulled from under my feet, throwing me into a wall of questions that spelled the same: What the fuck just happened?

alone in kyoto : air

click here or on the image below to listen

I will never know, and I don't care enough to find out. All I know is that Auto Rock continues to haunt me, minus the tears. I can't connect the song to anything in my memory – unlike Alone In Kyoto, which comes from the soundtrack to the film Lost in Translation. I saw it shortly after it came out and really liked the score, especially the intro where Bill Murray was being driven from the airport to his hotel. I remember the part of the film where this song was used. Three scenes, in fact: a couple in kimono marching to their wedding holding hands, Scarlett Johansson tying a strip of white paper on a branch of a wishing tree, and again her character half-bouncing on a trail paved with round stones. The film succeeded in resonating the isolation and alientation of travelers. This song brings to me that kind of sentiment; it doesn't make me weep, but it sure isn't happy. Even without the memory of the film, the song actually stands on its own as a mild blow to the heart. If the trilling vocals don't release butterflies in your stomach, then congratulations for not being the wuss that I am.

the most common song title ever

I have a point, I promise.

Okay. Having unpacked the last box in our new flat, I thought that now was the perfect time to post this. I've long been curious about what's the most frequently used song title ever – not the most frequently used word in a song title (in which case, it would probably be the pronoun "I"), but the most frequently used song title, period. And they have to be unique songs, not covers (in which case, Help! by The Beatles would be the hands-down winner). Unfortunately, I don't know of any authoritative source that keeps track of these things. The closest I could find is allmusic, which has a massive song database; you just have to know what you're looking for. One Googly afternoon, I found a web forum that discusses this very subject, and the list gathered by members looks like the following. (I've added their allmusic count for reference. I doubt that allmusic only counts unique songs, but what, pray tell, is the alternative?)

• Hold On - 963
• You - 885
• Freedom - 742
• Stay - 703
• I Want You - 658

Not a bad sample. We can all think of songs with those titles. Hold On was actually the first thing that came to my mind; I first noticed how popular it is as a song title after Sarah McLachlan released her album Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. I compared the forum members' list with my iTunes library (at 15,646 songs as of today, this is larger than the average, but still small by collectors' standards), and then I ran the most frequently used song title in my library by the allmusic database. The result: Home, with 11 unique songs in my iTunes, and 971 mentions in allmusic. Here is one of them:

home : cary pierce

click here or on the image below to listen. 3m 46s

I was surprised by the result. How many Home songs do you know? How many Home hits have there been? Not much, I would wager. And yet, a lot of major artists have one, from Louis Armstrong to Alan Jackson to Depeche Mode to Sheryl Crow. But my point is that home is something we always think about, but not something we choose to bring out in the open. Who wants to broadcast every little dysfunctional thing about their family? Which brings me to my next point: that the concept of home is quite distinct from the family unit. Many of the Home songs you will hear are not about family relationships but the nostalgia of growing up, the comfort of the familiar, the return to proverbial innocence. Home as your personal world, as you choose to see it, as you want it to be. In this song, Cary Pierce calls home "the way things were," "a place where no one ever lets me down," and a place that he can come back to to keep his life on track. (Can you guess who the female back-up is? The answer at the bottom.)

this world is not my home : his name is alive

click here or on the image below to listen. 2m 40s

Not that I'm saying Home is the most common song title ever. To be sure, love is still the overriding theme in music, and at 1,150 songs, I Love You has more allmusic listings than Home. But I guess you can make a case that after love in all its dimensions, songwriting is ultimately drawn to the idea of home and all its permutations. Apart from what Pierce describes above, home is also a represenation of – cue orchestral music – our place in the larger world, including the spiritual. Here, Michigan indie group His Name Is Alive borrows two lines from the gospel staple written in 1936 by Albert Brumley: This world is not my home, I'm just passing through, And I can't live at home in this world anymore. (Am I the only one to think this is a bit suicidal?) HNIA sings this version with clinical numbness, unlike the acoustic version on their myspace page, which is quietly unsettling.

broken homes : tricky feat. pj harvey

click here or on the image below to listen. 3m 35s

For the most part, of course, love is what makes a home, and its absence or betrayal destroys it. In fact, this theme often brings about some of the best songs in pop music. My favorite? Burt Friggin' Bacharach's A House Is Not A Home. I'm not meant to live alone, Turn this house into a home. I get all weepy just playing Brooke Benton's version of it in my head. An absolute classic, in spite of Luther Vandross's beautiful but overproduced rendition. This song I'm posting is not exactly about broken homes in the clichéd tradition of most ballad songwriters, but being Tricky, this one is freaking tremendous. Enjoy.

Oh, and the answer is Lisa Loeb.

where is my blog?

I can't blog. We moved house two weeks ago, and my iMac, which has the program that allows me to stream songs, is still in the box. In the meantime, here is one of my favorite songs of all time, by one of my favorite bands of all time. I uploaded this a while back, but for a different reason. This song was best used in the ending scene of the film Fight Club, another personal favorite.

where is my mind : pixies

click here or on the old image of the band below to listen

hot girl-on-girl action!

Douse your fantasies, perverts. These are songs by female singer-songwriters, each with a female name for a title.

irene : rose melberg

click here or on the image below to listen. 2m 41s

Is it possible not to like Rose Melberg after hearing this song? Just like the way she looks, the voice of this former Californian has an endearing and innocent character that makes you want to find your inner knight and come to her protection. She is the quiet girl from high school whose very coyness made her naturally intriguing. Two things about Irene caught my attention. First, it reminded me of the song Fascination by Everything But The Girl, especially its piano intro. Basically, it's a peppy, higher-key take on the lethargic plucked-guitar opener of the much-older song by the British duo. It's only a slight similarity, but it would be hard to listen to Irene without wondering if Melberg had just heard of Fascination and been subconsciously inspired by it. The second is its lyrical wit which manifests itself even in the first four lines of the song: So tired waking up uninspired; Too bored; you could change – but what for? I would be lying if I said I haven't felt that way before. That said, the song doesn't speak to my demographic, but to the same self-absorbed adolescent that Melberg's voice made me imagine. So dumb, what you wait for will come; Oh Irene, no one's strong at sixteen. The highlight of the song? The backing vocals, which circle her voice like a halo. And yes, they are her own – the album where this song comes from, Cast Away The Clouds, is after all almost entirely a one-person affair, with Melberg playing the guitars, piano, flute, ukulele, and drums.

eleanor : shannon worrell

click here or on the image below to listen. 5m 39s

Let me get one thing out of the way: Dave Matthews sings back-up in this song, and he does it extremely well as his voice seems to be the equivalent of a soul mate with that of Worrell. My knowledge of Worrell, however, is limited to this song, which comes from an old compilation CD from the Aware record label, but is also enough for me to admire her both as a singer and songwriter. I love the quality of her voice. It is vulnerable but disarming, especially when she seemingy breathes in the sharp notes at the start of some lines of the song – intermittent fragments that tug at the heart. The melody and imagery are beautiful, at turns heartwarming (especially when she sings the lines You're no empty shell and Plucked from the sky like spring's new leaf) and saddening. That part about approaching her indifferent father while he read a book – Why even bother? she asks herself – almost gave me a few goosebumps. It also made me wonder what the song is about. At first I thought it was about a young woman so full of passion, so willing to throw her love around, but who in reality was in search of purpose or self-discovery. But then she talks about her father – He thinks he knows me well; He thinks he knows this heart – and it made me wonder why she would need affirmation from him. And why is she almost an angel? I want a sequel to the song, dammit!

lydia : kathryn williams

click here or on the image below to listen. 2m 45s

I get instantly wary when critics say that an artist resonates Nick Drake or Joni Mitchell. Often I wouldn't see the similarity until someone pointed it out to me, and that's the case with Kathryn Williams. I like her unembellished songs. Not a lot of female solo artists today are confident enough to have such spare arrangements. Here, it's just Williams and her guitar, with minimal instrumentations in the background. Her voice is not really unique. It has that sleepy, wispy tone that you hear more often in anonymous chill-out or samba music. At best, her music is quietly arresting, which is probably how she won those favorable comparisons with Drake (less so with Mitchell, who has a strong, piercing voice). But this is the most credit I can give Williams, because her music lacks intensity, and when her songs are sunny, like Lydia is, she becomes, well, just cute. Like she is in that picture above.

25 planes this year and it's only july

one place : everything but the girl

click here or on the image below to listen. 5m 01s

When I first heard that line from the second verse of this song (lyrics below), I wondered if I would ever be able to achieve the same. Well, pop the champagne because I've just realized that I have! I even exceeded it by one: 26 flights from January to July, taking me to Australia, Vietnam, Dubai, Iran, Greece, and twice each to the Philippines, China and India. I'm tempted to count the UK, but I flew there on August 1st. Bummer. Anyway, I thought this was the perfect occasion to share this song by Everything But The Girl, a sappy pop duo from London who I happen to like very much. One Place is one of my favorite travel-themed songs (as opposed to songs for traveling – I have separate playlists for that one) and it comes from their mid-90s concept album Worldwide. Love the words, which demonstrate what good songwriters the couple of Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn are – or were, before EBTG went techno. Thorn's voice here is gold. Well, it always is.

One Place

A summer evening, I walk past the window

A baby crying, someone's cooking dinner

There's laughter on the TV

And someone's learning the violin

And how that home appeals

At times like this I feel that

I would like to live like anybody else

In one place

And I could be happy and fulfilled

In one place

So I get the map out

And draw a line of where we've been

It goes thru sea and sky

Twenty-five planes this year

And it's only July

This is not some bible like On The Road

It's just a song about coming home

And whether

I could live like anybody else

In one place

And I could be happy and fulfilled

In one place

And you know that I have found

I'm happiest weaving from town to town

And you know Bruce said

We should keep moving around

Or maybe we'll all get too tied down

I don't know

In the end if you take care

You can be happy or unhappy anywhere

is it the end of the line?

all i ever wanted : train

click here or on the image below to listen

mississippi : train

click here or on the image below to listen

Pat Monahan is one of my favorite male voices in rock. I think his voice has a rare combination of passion, power and distinctiveness, with a sharpness that cuts through jaded ears – as rousing, brooding or numb as he wants it to be. And edgy as it is, his voice is best suited for materials of a similar nature, which is why I find it difficult to like Train's latest album, For Me, It's You. The band has been accused of being faceless and middle of the road, and I can understand that given the lack of consistency in every album they've released so far. Monahan seems comfortable straddling the border between radio-friendly rock and rock that just doesn't give a damn. He's better at the latter when he writes songs so personal, even cryptic, that they're almost mystifying, not just in words (songwriting is not actually Monahan's best suit) but also in melody. Mississippi, from Train's second album Drops of Jupiter, is a midnight musing over an unattainable relationship, aptly laid with an aching opening bass line and slow, rippling guitar. In All I Ever Wanted – and, in fact, the entire new album – Monahan sides with the universal as opposed to the intimate, resulting in some of the most mediocre lyrics he has ever written. Take this from Cab, the album's first single: New York snow this time of year/There’s nothing more beautiful to me/Except for you. Wow. Deep. That said, I like the arrangement of All I Ever Wanted, especially the diversity of its melody and how Monahan flirts with the falsetto which he hardly uses. This song must kick ass live.