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“Crossed Paths,” Arto Lindsay/Caludio Ragazzi. Next Stop Wonderland Soundtrack. First, this is a wonderful collection of Latin music. I remember going to see this movie in the theater. I wanted to be Hope Davis, in her amazing Boston apartment, being all sad and literary and wearing brown lipstick (the 90s!), searching for words in poems that would crack open the future. Have a listen:
“Discotheque,” U2. Pop. I am pretty sure I’m one of five people who love this album. In fact, it’s my second favorite U2 album, right behind Achtung Baby. I thought it was an interesting departure, and I admire U2 for not just putting out version after version of The Joshua Tree.
“Deep,” Pearl Jam. Ten. I can’t get over the fact that this album is almost twenty years old. Sometime around 1998 I grew tired of Pearl Jam, but lately I find myself going back to No Code and earlier albums and remembering how great they were. Just a note to radio DJs everywhere: “Daughter” and “Can’t Find A Better Man” are not the only Pearl Jam songs out there. Thanks.
“Silver,” Pixies. Doolittle. I swear, I have bought music since the 1990s. Remember the other day when I said I could never remember my favorite things when asked? Let’s just put it on record: The Pixies are one of my favorite bands.
“The Only Living Boy in New York,” Simon & Garfunkel. Garden State Soundtrack. I swear, my iTunes thinks the only music in my library is Beck and this soundtrack. I let this one play because it’s Simon & Garfunkel, whom I saw at the Cotton Bowl in August 1983, drenched in the rain from Hurricane Alicia. Paul Simon had just married Carrie Fisher, and he brought her out on stage to wave at the crowd. Princess Leia! Oh yes.
“Invisible City,” The Wallflowers. Bringing Down The Horse. Jacob Dylan is not his father, but he does a fine job of being himself. “The imitation of good faith, is how you stumble upon hate…”
“Pouring Rain,” Fishbone. Truth and Soul. If I had a soundtrack for my college years, Fishbone would feature on it more than most. This is a pretty, sad, sad song: “He had one foot in the gutter/Another on dry land/ His ship had sailed without him/ Across life’s burning sands/He cried out in the distance/ And non one, no one heard a word…“ Back then it made me think of inequality and injustice. Now it makes me angry that things never seem to get any better. But maybe they still will. I have hope. They sing it better than I do:
“Man in A Suitcase,” The Police. Zenyatta Mondatta. In middle school I had a friend who went nuts for Duran Duran in general, and John Taylor in particular. She bought every magazine and cut out every picture she could find, even teeny tiny ones from ads in the back of the magazine, and these would float out of her scrapbooks like confetti. Her walls were covered with posters. Me? I had two posters in my room in high school only: one of The Police, and one of Sting. Zenyatta Mondatta is my favorite Police album, and they were another band I got to see, in 1983. Good grief. Fourteen was a good age for music.
“Try A Little Tenderness,” Otis Redding. The Otis Redding Story. For my generation, this song will always evoke Jon Cryer serenading Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. My grown-up self now sees that Ducky should have been the man, but in all honesty, no one could beat James Spader. Sorry. Andrew who?
“I Don’t Want to Know,” Fleetwood Mac. Rumours. Sorry. Can’t type anymore. Have to sing: “I don’t want to know the reasons why love keeps/Right on walking on down the li-ine…”
*images from amazon.com