From the Facebooks: John Yuelkenbeck's desert-island playlist
Editor's note: I'd been waiting for the right Facebook music list to arrive that I could grab for this blog, and, lo, it came this past Sunday. It's fitting that it's by Dave's bartender John Yuelkenbeck, not just because he presides over the best jukebox in town, but also because he published, edited and did most of the writing for a local music zine in the early '90s called Sound. Thanks to John for letting me post his classy list/essay as-is. The premise is basically the classic desert-island-discs idea. Without further ado...
I went with 20 Repeat Play songs on my (O)CD Player. Those who know me know what I'm talking about! Figure if I've only got 20 songs, I might as well make them ones I can listen to until the rescue boat arrives.
1. "William Faulkner In Hollywood" -- Tom Russell.
My friend Selma put this on a mix tape of songs about California for me to listen to while driving Mike Ireland's band equipment out there in, when? 1988 i guess. I didn't hear it until on the way back, as I was leaving Las Vegas, and I just kept pushing the repeat button until I made it back to Kansas City. Great band, insightful lyrics, fiddle, female backup singers . . . Forget David Allen Coe, THIS is the perfect country-western song. A few years later, and I would be designing an album cover for the guy!
2. "This Close To You" -- Joe Henry.
From Kindness of the World, one of the first discs I persuaded the amusement company to put on the Stagecoach jukebox for me, back in 1993. Drove everyone crazy with it. Wrote an article for my music 'zine, Sound, about my obsession over it. And figured I'd already gone on about "I Was A Playboy" enough (although I'll find a way to sneak that one on with me, too).
3. "Brownsville Girl" -- Bob Dylan.
In the summer of 1986, I drove to Chicago three separate times to see (1) Tom Waits' stage play Frank's Wild Years at Steppenwolf, (2) Van Morrison's "No Guru, No Method" tour, and (3) the Dylan/Petty "True Confessions" tour. On one of these drives, not sure which, I listened to nothing but this 11-minute track which had just been released. Co-written by Sam Shepard. I had it memorized after about the 6th hour.
4. "Nightswimming" -- R.E.M.
On the third day of my having this on repeat play at the office, a coworker of mine began looking for another job. I don't blame him.
5. "You're Sister Cried" -- Mary Gauthier.
Gauthier's cover of this Fred Eaglesmith song knocks it out of the park. The fantastic harmony vocals on the chorus ("I'll never know how you got in to such a mess/Why do the bridesmaids all have to wear the same dress?") are probably with producer Gurf Morlix, but I'm too lazy to research it.
6. "Time To Get A Gun" -- Fred Eaglesmith.
While I'm on Fred, this one had me going for quite a while. "Time to get a gun/that's what I've been thinkin'/I could afford one/If I did just a little less drinkin'." I'd really like to catch him in concert. Heard he might be in St. Louis in April.
7. "Sad, Sad World" -- Sheryl Crow.
Found strength in this one when a close friend died in '97.
8. "Revolution 9" -- Beatles.
OK, I'm a freak. What's your point? I was obsessed with this, but fortunately it didn't lead to any Manson-like activities.
9. "Cindy of a Thousand Lives" -- Billy Bragg.
Although hooked on the entire Don't Try This At Home disc, this track about photographer Cindy Sherman was especially mesmerizing, atypically Beatlesque for Billy. The UMKC crowd has picked up on playing it on the Stagecoach jukebox lately.
10. "Moonlight Mile" -- Rolling Stones.
There were very few nights in college when this wasn't the song I went to sleep to.
11. "Deliver Us From The Elements" -- XTC.
I likened this to an aural version of Caedmon's Hymn. Another great one to help me drift off to sleep, even with the psonic storm at the end.
12. "It Makes No Difference"--The Band.
Hopefully there will be no razor blades on this island so I don't slit my wrists. I'm a sucker for the sad songs.
13. "Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice)" -- Clash.
This Sandinista! track always gets into my head and won't leave any time I'm headed to New York. Even though it was written 20 years before, the title sadly evokes 9-11 to me.
14. "Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole" -- Martha Wainwright.
She sings it like she means it, too. You'll want to join in the fun.
15. "Legal Thief" -- Tymon Dogg.
For those unfamiliar with Tymon, he's the violin player who sings the song "Lose This Skin" on the Clash's Sandinista! album. I was lucky enough to meet him in London and correspond with him on occasion. My description for his voice is "Geddy Lee, if Geddy Lee had talent."
16. "This Little Ukulele" -- Stephin Merritt.
As a post-9-11 show of support, I flew to New York to catch Magnetic Fields at Avery Fisher Hall, performing "69 Love Songs" in its entirety, with all the guest singers, over the course of two nights. For a 70th song encore, Merritt chose to play this brief ditty by himself, a cut he had recorded for a soundtrack disc. Brilliant. Instant repeat-play-er. I thanked him personally as I plied him with Maker's Mark a couple of years later in St. Louis.
17. "These Bars (Have Made A Prisoner Out Of Me)" -- Carl Brouse.
Would've been a huge country hit, but it was just too clever. My mortician friend Ed Becker and I were negotiating with Carl to release this on CD, but unfortunately he passed away before it got that far along.
18. "I'm Sorry (But So Is Brenda Lee)" -- Marshall Crenshaw.
Crenshaw's cover of this Ben Vaughn song, produced by T Bone Burnett, is just too infectious to not get its hooks into you. I think the title is hysterical, too, although fewer and fewer people know who Brenda Lee is these days.
19. "Word On A Wing" -- David Bowie.
Love the lyrics. Actually, I could treat the entire Ryko release of Station To Station as one long, repeated song in the Yuelkenbeck desert iPod, especially that blistering live version of "Stay." Might dump the cover of "Wild Is The Wind" though, which is kind of overwrought. Bowie knew how to tap the talent, grabbing Roy Bittan and Carlos Alomar for this one.
20. "Plastic Is Forever" -- Sam Phillips.
Maybe it's the oddball instrument blasts placed just slightly off where they should fall, or Phillips' deadpan cynicism. Or the groove it slides into. Another T Bone Burnett production. I think I'll get off the computer and head down to the Stagecoach and punch this one up. Goes great with Guinness. I'm sure as the afternoon progresses, I'll think of plenty others I'll wish I would've included here.
1 comment(s) / Post a Comment
