MOTHER'S DAY... In case your mama DOES dance afterall

There aren't many people who love their mother more than I do.  In fact, I can think of only three people.  ED GEIN, the Wisconsin killer who inspired both Leatherface and Hannibal Lecter was so distraught when his mother died, he began to make a "woman suit" out of the skins of his prey.  All this was to be closer to mom.  OEDIPUS so loved his mother that he took her as his lover after having his father murdered.  NORMAN BATES continued to dress as his mother so that he could both quell her voice in his head and he could kill people without guilt.

In my opinion, all three of those men love their mothers more than me.  Did you see three names that WEREN'T on that list?  Those names would be my two brothers and sister who, no matter how deep I look into the internet, haven't seem to posted any music to dedicate to the woman that brought them into the world. 

Oh well, Mother: nobody's perfect.  You're batting .250, which is still worlds better than Angels outfielder Josh Hamilton.

With no further ado, I present:

TOP TEN SONGS FOR MOTHER ON MOTHER'S DAY

 

11.  "Mama's Heart" by Those Darlins

Yes, I know I said "Top Ten," but the woman endured nine months of lugging you around before squirting you free in a mess of blood and muck, whether you were properly raised or not.  You can endure one extra song by the lovely Those Darlins.   

10.  "Hot Little Mama" by Johnny "Guitar" Watson

MOMMA v MAMA.  It's a question we are faced with every day.  If you scoured the annals of music like I do, you will notice the disturbing trend that MOMMA is typically attributed to motherhood, while MAMA is a word you would use for a what those in proper society call a M.I.L.F. (M stands forMAMA) or what those in properer society call a COUGAR.  In fact, most MAMAs can be found at juke joints, bars, or road houses.  Why did a word like MAMA come to represent a sexually charged woman?  I won't dabble into that subject just yet, but you can bet your placenta I plan to revisit it before I let you out of here.  In the meantime,  let's visit the various adjectives used with MAMA when it comes to music.  Why, some MAMAs are "Two Fisted," "Pepper Sauce," "Pistol Packin," "Ding Dong" or even "Drop Down."  In other parts of the country, it is common to have a MAMA be "Fujiyama," "Mamochka," "Piney Woods," "Eagle Eyed," or for God's sake, even "Snaggle Toothed."  Be her "Long Tall" or "Peach Orchard," enjoy both your MOMMA and your MAMA, but be sure to note which is which.

9.  "Mother In-Law" by Ernie K. Doe

If you have a mother in-law half as cool as I do, then you probably make up songs about her all the time.  But for those of you that don't, please enjoy this classic from New Orleans which inspired a great restaurant.

8. "Mother Was a Lady" by Jimmie Rodgers

For those of you who enjoy being a douchebag to a waitress, please keep in mind you that could probably be "The Singing Brakeman's" mother.  It probably isn't, but chances are it's somebody's mother.  And that somebody may be bigger than you.  I don't know how you were raised, but my MOMMA taught me not to go messing with someone bigger than me.  Or a guy who sings a lot about his mother.

7.  "Parents Just Don't Understand" by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince

This generation defining hit is one song that just screams for a sequel.  I'd love to hear how Will Smith would sing the song as an adult, and his mother still "ruining his rep."  But, like other songs of the era, would never work with an older audience.  Back in my day, some of the best songs were

Songs to Rock Out on Your Birthday

One thing is true about growing old: It ain't for pussies. 

Today in particular, my right wrist hurts, my back hurts, I expect to hear from my left kneecap sometime today, and since I drank a bunch last night, roses are forecasted for my cheeks. 
But I still have a full head of hair, so everyone can kiss my @$$. 

Just for today, at least.

TOP TEN SONGS TO ROCK ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

10. "Happy Birthday" by The Sugarcubes
There is no acceptable reason to include this song on this list... except one.  A lot of times, Bjork sounds like

she is having a stroke.  And to me, that is funny and on my birthday I like to laugh.  But one time, on my birthday, when I was younger and more fascinated with illicit substances, I actually understood what she said.  So every year, I like to challenge myself and if I can understand what Bjork is saying, then I am not properly behaving for a man's birthday.  Now, off to see JoJo so I can listen to some Sugarcubes...

9. "Happy Birthday" by Altered Images
When I listen to this song, I think of all the regrets I've had in life.  One that springs immediately to mind is my failure to build a time machine.  First thing I would do with a time machine is go back to high school and get all of the answers right on my history tests.  Second thing I would do is go back and stop each member of this band from being born.

8. "It's my Party" by Leslie Gore
Enough said.

7. "16 Candles" by the Crests
I would have loved to have gone to high school in a John Hughes film.  Seriously.  All the chicks were good looking and easy and all of the dudes were pussies.  I would have been like a god in that high school.  I would have been like the guy who shows up with a lighter and amazes the cave men.  Think about it: the only guy in Saturday detention with half a cock was the principal.  The only person with a scintilla of a cock in Some Kind of Wonderful was the drummer girl.  And don't get me started on Home Alone.  But this is about the music and the song is kind of groovy, so happy birthday.

Top Ten Songs about Durham, NC

For the first time ever, I have enjoyed watching a community grow over the past five years.  I have lived all over the South.  My hometown was destroyed by a tornado and is now a shadow of what it once was (and it was never much to begin with).  I lived in antediluvian New Orleans (and honestly, would probably kill to live there now).  I summered in St. Louis during the flood of 1993 and lived in Dublin, Ireland, before the Celtic Tiger was declawed.

But my time in Durham has shown me that not all cities go directly to the toilet.  When I first moved here in February of 2007, our downtown consisted of little more than boarded-up businesses, one-way thoroughfares leading to nowhere and street corners manned by drug dealers.  The Carolina Theater had yet to reopen its doors and the only place to eat was Rue Cler, an oasis in a desert of despair. 

 In less than two years, the transformation was magic.  The restaurant and bar scene downtown became transformed in what feels like overnight.  The Durham Performing Arts Center is in the top five live venues in the nation.  The Carolina Theater has some of the most impressive programming in the South, especially if you are a horror aficionado (Thanks Retrofantasma!). 

 But still, age-old stereotypes exist, especially when you are dealing with students from neighboring communities who would rather perpetuate stereotypes their mommas taught them, than perform real journalism.  The Daily TarHeel, a publication one step beyond (or behind) the most banal of student blogs, printed an article the other day which slams Durham, despite its growth and progress.  I only moved here six years ago, but I actually found myself offended.

Then I stopped to think about what I needed from Chapel Hill.  I came up with two answers: Local 506, and they stand between me and Carrboro.  I admit, sometimes Franklin St., despite being frozen in the 1990s, is fun to drive down on my way to the Cat's Cradle or the ArtsCenter, but as far as the rest of it goes, I don't need it.  For the rest of my days, if I have to meet someone in Chapel Hill, I will be packing a lunch or carrying a flask, because I will not spend one dollar there. 

And if I do go, I'm rounding up my biggest, baddest, pipe-hittingest criminals, so hide yo kids, hide yo wife, Chapel Hill.  And to pump ourselves up for the ride, we will be slipping into the tape deck:

TOP TEN SONGS ABOUT DURHAM, NORTH CAROLINA

10. "NIGHTRIDE" by Th' Legendary Shack Shakers

While it's a bit of a stretch, this song is actually about Western Kentucky tobacco farmers and their battle with JB Duke's American Tobacco Company during the Black Patch Tobacco War during the early 1900s.  You see, before Duke was a basketball powerhouse, it was a tobacco monopoly, and the farmers in Western Kentucky feared their prices were being set too low for them to earn a decent living.  So they banded together, donned hoods, and rode through the countryside, terrorizing farmers who cooperated with Duke.  Not only did these events inspire the lyrics of Col. JD Wilkes and his Legendary Shack Shakers, but also Robert Penn Warren's first novel, Night Riders.

9. "SWEET HONEY HOLE" by Blind Boy Fuller

Imagine Rigsbee Street in its heyday, back in the 20s-30s, the air rich and sweet with the smell of Brightleaf tobacco...  Come auction time, a man was sometimes holding his entire year's pay right there on the "troubled" streets of Durham.  Farmers, auctioneers, warehouse managers... they weren't the only ones manning the streets.  Come auction time, those streets would also be teeming with people who aimed to separate those folks from their money.  I can only imagine the scene as fun and rowdy, especially when you add the blues musicians to the mix.  Blind Boy Fuller is one of the Piedmont bluesmen who made their living playing in tobacco warehouses and along Rigsbee Street back then, alongside folk such as Sonny Terry and the Reverend Gary Davis.  And much in the tradition of great bluesmen of that era, his grave in Durham is unmarked. 

8. "WELCOME 2 DURHAM" by Little Brother featuring Big Daddy Kane

I can't stand rap music, but in the wake of the Daily Tar Heel article, I am perfectly fine with them building speakers and playing this song on a continuous loop right there at the I-40 border between

GUNS, GIRLS, and ZOLOFT - A 21st Century Love Song

Recent developments in our country has put the Second Amendment smack dab on the cover of magazines and newspapers all over again.  Rational people disagree on a myriad of issues surrounding the problems, or even which problems need addressing.  One thing I know for certain: I would never want the job of having to propose gun control in this country, nor would I want the job of having to address it to the people in this country.  That's a hard job and I'm glad they've put a smart fellow in there to do it.

 

What I hope doesn't happen is that gun control proposals are put in place and, after months or years of fighting and debating and screaming and protesting, new rules are enacted and everyone pats themselves on the back, wipes the dust from their hands and says "Good job," then goes out for a beer.  Because, if you ask me, guns are only half the equation. 

 

The real problem is that people are fucking crazy.  However, no one has proposed a way to legislate crazy.  And I'm not talking hobos getting sent from asylums once funding is cut, I'm talking people being born crazy, being allowed to live crazy, and staying crazy until they are sent to public institutions which are, lo and behold, packed to the gills with other crazy people.

 

And some of them, thanks to big Pharmaceutical companies, have been put on tons of drugs.

 

No, gun control is nowhere near the end-all be-all to this problem.  But it's a start and I don't envy our president's job right now, but I know the best man is in place to do it.  I myself, a loud proponent of population control or the apocalypse (whichever comes first), am probably the last person who's opinions should be noted.

 

But, since you asked...

 

THE TOP TEN SONGS FOR ARMED, CRAZY PEOPLE WHO WANT TO "GET" THE GIRL

Love Songs for the Pharmaceutical Generation

 

10. "Used to Love Her" by Guns And Roses

I know, I know, Axl Rose claims this song is about his dog, but his track record with girls speaks for itself.  An incident with a gun and his first wife damned the marriage and another early paramour referred to their relationship as "putting a nuclear warhead in your living room and hitting it with a hammer and just waiting."  As if that wasn't enough, he got his ass beat by Tommy Hilfiger.  To prove karma's existence, check him out now and tell me he hasn't gotten his.

9. "Shoot Her With the Good Handgun" by Jay Munly

Because no girl of mine will stand to be shot with the bad handgun.  Which reminds me: Want to know what "gun control" at my house is?  The missus said I can't have both a gun AND a bourbon

CHRISTMAS CAROLS THAT WON'T GIVE YOU AN EMBOLISM

Somewhere out there, evil elves cackle with glee every  time the Muzak supervisor at the mall pops in the Christmas CD, the same Christmas CD that every other mall uses, every other supermarket, every other elevator, every other... because they know they are slowly driving folks mad.

I love John Lennon, but by mid-December, I would rather declare war than listen to "Happy Xmas, War Is Over" one more time.  It's worlds better than his counterpart's "Wonderful Christmastime," but listening to the song repeatedly is akin to waterboarding or other measures of torture that are against international law.

Frank and Dean and Bing and even Burl Ives are great to listen to when the mercury dips, but their Christmas carols desensitize a person to the point where no rational human can hear their voices without having a holly, jolly stroke. 

And I'll choke anyone who keys up anything by an American Idol or any teenage country star.  Consider yourself warned.

I am not, by any means, a Scrooge.  I love Christmas carols.  I love the fact that Dean Martin can make attempted date rape sounds so smooth with "Baby, It's Cold Outside."  (Seriously, what is in that drink?)  Frank and Nancy's "I Wouldn't Trade Christmas" is the reason for the season and Mele Kalikimama most definitely is the thing to say... for about a week in December.  But enough is enough.  It's overkill. 

It could be that the Christmas shopping season starts earlier every year, it could be that the songs are old, but most likely it is that the same songs get played on repeat FAR too often every year.

So I give those of you who like Christmas music but tired of the same-ol', same-ol', a little gift from me to you to stick under your tree. 

TOP TEN CHRISTMAS SONGS THEY AIN'T PLAYING IN THE MALL

10. "At the Christmas Ball" by Bessie Smith

The Empress of the Blues... What a lady.  In an industry that was notoriously unkind to both women and blacks, Bessie Smith refused to be disrespected or cheated.  Known for throwing tantrums in front of a venue when deals were broken, folks learned quickly not to deny Bessie Smith what was promised.  A wonderful and amazing career was cut short when, after an auto accident outside of Clarksdale, she was refused medical treatment by white doctors and forced to seek help in a black clinic.  That clinic is now a motel down the street from one of the last remaining jukes, further cementing her place in blues mythology.

9. "Katie Dang" by the Blackstone Valley Sinners

There are many songs to choose from on the Blackstone Valley Sinners' The Cold Hard Truth About Christmas, but Slim Cessna's haunting lyrics and sad melody juxtaposed against the holly, jolly-ness

THE MURDER BALLAD -- 'TIS THE SEASON

A strange tradition seems to pop up every December.  Right around the holidays, in that familiest of family times, folks either reach for the eggnog or reach for the shotgun.  One minute, Dad's asking you to pass the potatoes, the next minute, he's shooting Mom in the face.

The murder-suicide is a hot topic this time of year.  No matter the occasion, the motive, or the location, 'tis the season to take out a couple of family members and then yourself.  Holiday murder-suicides are older than Peanuts Christmas specials.  There's no need to post any recent tragedies because that would just plain be rubbernecking.  But horrible events this time of year have been well documented in both media and song.

Which brings us to today's topic: The Murder Ballad.  Why some murders warrant a song that transcends time and others don't is beyond me, but back in the day and out in the hills, there was no better way to communicate the horrors of a good, honest murder than to sing about it.  The worse the crime, the better the song.

So sit back with someone you love this holiday season and, rather than club them to death, relax with a cautionary tale murder ballad or two.  Or three.  As it turns out, my little village of North Carolina is chock full of them.  For instance...

 

THE LAWSON FAMILY MURDER by Doc Watson

At Christmas, 1929, a tobacco farmer named Charlie Lawson in Germanton, North Carolina, took his wife and seven children to town to get their pictures taken in their new clothes.  He then took them home and systematically, one by one, killed them all.  After using a shotgun to both shoot and bludgeon them, he positioned their bodies with their hands crossed against their chests and heads rested on a rock, as if they were sleeping.  Word of the tragedy spread and folks later found Charlie Lawson had shot himself in the woods with that very same shotgun.

Speculation on why Lawson murdered his entire family ran the gamut, from shame due to incest to a head injury to other suspicions.  No matter the cause, the song has passed through the ages, and

Sins of the Perfectly Average -- I HATE NEW YORK

Ever run into a person from New York City?  Certainly you haven't run into anyone from New York City, but rather someone who, after leaving their farming village or mid-level, mundane existence in some random suburb across the United States who read a romance novel or pseudo-intellectual novel or watched a cinema film of questionable value and decided hey, New York City is the place to be!  Because Sinatra sang about it (dude, he sang about everywhere), then it must be A-OK!

So they pack their bags and run up there and maybe five years later, they infest some other city in a more civilized portion of America and say ridiculous things like "I'm still not used to the pace here after living in New York" or bemoan the dearth of Chinese joints open at four in the morning or lament the lines into the nightclubs are too short.  Or refer to Manhattan as THE CITY and expect everyone to know what they are talking about.

With the exception of the horrible events that took place against America on September 11, 2001 a.d., I love it when bad things happen to New Yorkers.  Frankenstorms, massive blackouts, the Yankees losing in the playoffs ... these things give me a perverted sense of glee and it honestly is not because of some geopolitical or socioeconomic or historic facet, but rather because of New Yorkers or former New Yorkers or even wannabe New Yorkers.  No, it is not the city that I hate, but rather the people. 

Some will jump to defend the arrogant populace, claiming that New York has such great theatre.  Really?  Those plays aren't reproduced across the country in smaller, more friendly confines?  How many of those playwrights are actually from the city?  I've seen better plays from writers in Dublin, Brazil, other places... No, you don't get that one. 

I actually like Saturday Night Live when it's good, but those players are trained in Chicago's Second City.

The crossword puzzle from The New York Times trumps all other crossword puzzles, but the great Will Shortz is from Indiana and is Indiana-proud, so they don't even get that.

You see, with the prolificacy of the Internet, we are no longer reliant on Hollywood or New York City for great works.  Film can easily be made, showcased, and distributed without selling out to the Great Western Casting Couch, sucking up to sycophants and braving earthquakes.  Theatre and literature can actually exist outside of the five boroughs, without having to deal with the nation's largest taxi queue.  Some folks are realizing this, but it is hardly a movement.  No, the only thing clinging our art so desperately to these two outmoded cities are the limited mindset of the Perfectly Average.

So hail the land of your birth, or re-birth, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.  To have an inferiority complex because you aren't exactly like thirty million other douchebags is just plain ridiculous.  There is no need to go packing your bags to run off to The City because of outmoded societal goals.  Thanks to brilliant writers like William Gay, Cormac McCarthy, Daniel Woodrell and yes, even Faulkner, the South is again beautiful and mysterious and crooked.  So why on earth would we need New York?

So with that, I hail a city that, in a steel cage match, would bludgeon the shit out of the City that Never Shuts Up.  If they can make it there, they can make it anywhere...

 

TOP TEN SONGS ABOUT DALLAS, TEXAS

 

10. "Dallas County Jail Blues" by Gene Autry

Inspired by the stylings of Jimmie Rodgers, "the Blue Yodeler," Autry celebrates one of Big D's greatest institutions.  Known as "The Dallas Hotel" by locals, the imposing structure looms large just South of downtown in the psyche of everyone crossing the river for liquor.  It doesn't rate highly on its own Yelp page, but don't let that sway you from enjoying its amenities next time you are in town.  True to the nickname, it allegedly was once a working hotel, but contrary to urban myth, not the one where the Beatles stayed during their 1964 tour.  That was the Cabana Motor Hotel which, coincidentally enough, is now a minimum security jail.

9. "Broke Down South of Dallas" by Junior Wells

There is no other song that sums up my experience growing up in Dallas or, more appropriately, South of Dallas.  If you've ever driven a Plymouth Turismo, perhaps you understand.  In the succession of shitty cars I drove as I crossed the landscape of Lancaster, Duncanville, Wilmer-Hutchins, Ennis and environs, Cedar Hill, and yes, even DeSoto, I spent many days with my car (or my friend's cars - think: shitty VW bug with a skull painted on the hood) on the side of the road.  This was before cell phones, when a person had to walk to the nearest payphone.  In Texas heat.  No, people are pussies now, plain and simple.