Songs for Christmas

As a special bonus this month, I'm picking some personal favorites of the Christmas-song collection to share! A few notes:

1) Please jump in with yours. I selfishly want to discover all the great Christmas music known to man, and need your help. Sure, yes, feel free to debate/argue/discuss in the comments. But really, just give me your recommendations.

2) Apologies to the readers who don't celebrate Christmas--it's what I know! I'd love to hear some other holiday song recommendations?

3) A few years back, I graded all the well-known Christmas tunes in a 3-part monster blog. Check that out here: Part 1, 2, and 3.

4) Just like last time, I'm breaking this down into three categories: pop (Lennon's "So This Is Christmas"), secular ("Silver Bells," "Jingle Bells," "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town," etc.), religious ("Silent Night," "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing," "Noel," etc.). I'm giving the pop songs 12 picks, secular 10, and religious 5. Why these numbers? Why not these numbers? I'm also going to try to make some different picks than I have in past Christmas-song posts, for variation's sake. Still, the greats are the greats for a reason.

Here...we....go!

Songs for Christmas!

Pop

Tom Petty, "Christmas All Over Again"
Four chords? Check. Can't miss melody? Check. Oddly evocative lyrics? Check. It's Tom Petty all over again.

The Kinks, "Father Christmas"
Reason #1,602 Why the Kinks Are One of Rock's Most Underrated Bands: give me a 60's rock band that produced a better Christmas song than this. Fun, funny, rollicking, and truly original.

Billy Mack (Love Actually soundtrack), "Christmas Is All Around"
Here's what Love Actually understands about Christmas music: it's the only time that cheap sentiments, cliched lyrics, and cloying pop aren't just expected, but welcomed. In June, I'm not touching NSync; in December, I'm unabashedly buying their cover of "Let It Snow" and hitting repeat. Billy Mack calls this song "Grade-A crap," and it would be, except that it's not. It's funny, and generous, and self-deprecating, and filled with spirit. There's nothing uncool about being happy, and having a good laugh.

BONUS Love Actually pick: Dido, "Here With Me"
This song has little (or nothing) to do with Christmas, save its inclusion in Love Actually. But I'm giving it major love here for three reasons:
1) Turns out I kind of like Dido. Her melodies are gorgeous, and she does "haunted-and-heartbroken" as well as any singer/songwriter from the past ten years.
2) I'm intrigued by how many British singer/songwriters insist on using electronic percussion on their albums.
3) It's made infinitely better by the actor's performance of "My best friend's bride just discovered I'm in love with her." As Dido's chorus swoops over the action, dude performs the unprecedented "triple-pivot, dramatic sweater-zip, sidewalk spin, head-in-hands crouch, and public-outcry-that-scares-onlookers." It comes at the 56 minute mark. It's fantastic.

Hanson, "Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)"
Major props to long-time reader Elizabeth for this recommendation. If anyone can sell unrepentant holiday pop cheese, it's Hanson. Everything, from the overwrought Jackson-esque vocal stylings, to glistening production, to the background vocal monolith, is exactly what you'd want it to be. Looking for the most ridiculous, lovable, infectious, pop-rocking 4-minutes in existence? Shtop it--Hanson's got you.

My Morning Jacket, "XMas Curtain"
Some genius, once upon a time, wrote that music is the "unspoken, inscrutable language of the soul." The right combination of sounds can communicate something otherworldly, can transform into something new, and can transport you to any given time, or place. These songs tap into some secret only the gods know. And what I'm trying to say is this: Jim James might not be from this planet. When he sings about dawn, it sounds exactly like a sunrise. When he sings about evil urges, the accompanying music is recognizably evil and alluring. And when he sings about Christmas, it just sounds like Christmas. Sure, an extremely weird Christmas. But Christmas nonetheless.

Leon Redbone (Elf soundtrack), "Christmas Island"
I can't hear it without laughing. Which, I think, is its goal.

Lynyrd Skynyrd, "Santa Claus Wants Some Loving"
Have you ever thought to yourself, "I'm looking for a creepy riff-rock Christmas song. But it can't just be a little creepy. It's got to be much creepier than 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,' which is disturbing to begin with. It's got to be so creepy that even the uber-famous band singing it doesn't get love from their crowd when they perform it live. It's got to be creepy and off-putting enough that the band members' wives ask them not to play it anymore, and cancel that holiday vacation to St. Barts." If the answer to that question is yes, look no further.

Emmylou Harris, "Light of the Stable"
I've mentioned this one in the past, but it's an all-time favorite. Christmas music, above all else, must make you feel something; it has to resonate. Considering my idea of heaven is Emmylou Harris singing "Halleluja" while I judge a barbeque contest, this song resonates. I can't think of any Christmas vocal that tops it.

Low, "Just Like Christmas"
The song takes place in Oslo, and is exactly what I picture Oslo sounding like. I'd love to find out sometime. A different mood from Hanson, to be sure (this is Christmas in a dreamy, supercold haze, as opposed to Christmas in a McDonald's playland), but pretty and resonant all the same.

Vince Guaraldi Trio, "Christmastime Is Here"
I'll admit it: I have no idea who Vince Guaraldi is. I'm completely--willfully--unaware of his catalog outside the Peanuts Christmas soundtrack. He's probably a fantastic jazz pianist and composer, and wholly deserving of an audience the other 11 months of the year. I can't possibly bring myself to care, because the one thing that I do know about Vince Guaraldi is so unspeakably perfect, I can't go above or beyond it.

I once knew a girl who loved Peanuts, but didn't think that it was sad, or that Charlie Brown was a tragic figure. Which is insane to me, because that's exactly what I loved about Peanuts growing up--it was palpably sad, but always hopeful. How do I know I was right? Vince Guaraldi, that's how. It is sad in the best possible sense--it meets you when you're down, but it tells you you're not alone. And, occasionally, it picks you back up.

John Lennon, "So This Is Christmas"
As I get older, it gets harder to gloss over the goofy "war is over" childrens' chorale that eventually swallows the song. But the fact remains: "So this is Christmas/and what have you done..." remains the best opening to a Christmas pop song I've ever heard. The whole thing--from the delivery, to the perfect pop structure, to the production--is so effortless for Lennon, it's easy to take for granted its simple perfection.

Frank Sinatra, "I'll Be Home For Christmas"
Because this has always been a great song, but I'm just now starting to hear it.

Secular

Sting, "I Saw Three Ships"
Four years in, and Sting gets his first mention on the Blog! Congrats, Sting!

Vienna Boys Choir, "The Holly and the Ivy"
Part 1 in a 2-part tribute to my brother's Christmastime favorites. For some unknown reason, this ranks near the top of his list. I can't hear it without thinking of him and his weird affection for songs about shrubbery.

John Williams (Home Alone sountrack), "Carol of the Bells"
Part 2 in the 2-part tribute: This John Williams version does what a John Williams anything should do: knock you out, steal your wallet, puncture a lung, crack a rib, and make you want more. But my brother's got a vendetta against any "Carol of the Bells" version with actual lyrics. Again, I would've never noticed this, but he's got a point: it's a great tune. It doesn't need a choir of 60 children screaming, "bells, bellsy bells!" or whatever the words are. Either way, I'm including this version, so you can sing along to the Apocalyptic nonsense lyrics and wonder if your life is better without them.

The Temptations, "Little Drummer Boy"
One of my favorites from the "secular" group, because of that great, rising melody, and the endearing lyric. I haven't heard a version of this song that brings out those two points better than the Temptations'. Effortlessly cool, yet subtle and affected.

Jackson 5, "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town"
Little Michael wasn't ready to croon yet ("Give Love on Christmas Day"), but he could rock some soul-screaming vocals like no other. This version is so winning, and fun, that it makes every other sound drab and joyless in comparison. One of the rare Christmas staples that renders all other versions an afterthought.

Diana Ross & the Supremes, "Silver Bells"
A longtime favorite of mine, I used to prefer the Rat Pack versions of this song with their cool narrative emphasis and bouncy style. Now, I go for the smooth, deeply melodic version by Diana Ross & the Supremes. It's prettier, and dreamier, and somehow happier.

Nat King Cole, "The Christmas Song"
Every Christmas list I ever make will include Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song." Let's be very clear about that right now.

Otis Redding, "White Christmas"
Three reasons this is probably my all-time favorite from this group:
1) As stated in Songs for December, Otis Redding owns this month. If December is a Season of Snuggliness (as November's Fan of the Month would say), nobody communicates that feeling better than Otis.
2) The dominant horn line is almost identical to my favorite My Morning Jacket moment of all-time: the outtro for "I Will Sing You Songs." Seriously, listen to this song. Then listen to the 5:28 mark of this song. Then tell me Otis Redding and Jim James aren't actually messengers from God.
3) It arrives at the perfect moment in Love Actually, which we've now established owns my soul.

Religious

Smokey Robinson, "Away In a Manger/Coventry Carol"
Noticing a Motown trend, are we?

Boyz II Men, "Silent Night"
You're damn right. It is exactly what you want from a Boyz II Men a'capella version of "Silent Night." Insanely overwrought, melodramatic, and weirdly deviant from the original, and always gorgeous.

Frank Sinatra, "The First Noel"
This one's grown on me over the years. I used to gloss over it because of familiarity and a weird personal connection to a Home Improvement episode. Now, it's one of my all-time favorite Christmas melodies. If done right, it's incredibly powerful; of course, Sinatra does it right.

Relient K, "Angels We Have Heard On High"
Proof that the SoCal mall-punk bands weren't stupid, just dumb. This is a brilliant cover of an old-classic, equal parts hilarious, fun, clever, and genuinely impressive.

Nat King Cole, "O Holy Night"
My all-time favorite, anytime, anywhere. True story: when I got a new computer last February, I didn't transfer any music onto it for a few weeks. There were four songs I bought--in February, mind you--on iTunes because I knew I had to have them in my library immediately. They were, in order of purchase:
1) Pearl Jam, "Nothingman"
2) The Band, "The Weight"
3) Bob Dylan, "Desolation Row"
4) Nat King Cole, "O Holy Night"

Now, a few bonus picks!

BONUS WINTERTIME SONG: Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson, "Winter Song"
Slightly goofy in the charming, childlike manner of so many Michaelson songs, impeccable vocals, gorgeous harmonies, and pitch-perfect songwriting. One of my favorite experiences as a listener is when I like something that I typically wouldn't like. I was surprised by--and grateful for--how much I appreciate this song.

BONUS NEW YEARS SONG: Guy Lombardo, "Auld Lang Syne"
You knew it was coming, and this is easily my favorite version.

BONUS CHRISTMAS VIDEO:
"O Holy Night," as performed by a New Orleans jazz ensemble on an episode of Studio 60.
By my rubric ("Christmas music, above all else, must make you feel something; it has to resonate."), this is the best Christmas song I've heard this season. I can't hear it without getting goosebumps.

Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!


What are your Songs for Christmas?

Fan of the Month!

Ah, December. A time of cheer. A time of togetherness. A time to enjoy some Hanson, sans irony. It's a time for all of these things, and none of these things, because it's a season unto itself. It is what you make it.

In the spirit of self-discovery, I've decided to branch out with the Fan of the Month. December's FOM comes from an unlikely place (have you heard of Mentone?). He has oddly specific biases toward sports broadcasters (and wants to fight one). He is a Renaissance man, a man who can steer a golf cart through an Alabama snowstorm; a gifted mixologist, yet a bologna enthusiast; a man who a man who knows (maybe) what figgy pudding is. He is all of the things--and perhaps none of the things--that a typical FOM might be. And that's why we love him.

I'm proud to present December's Fan of the Month...Luke, in Nashville!

(As always, if you'd like to be a future Fan of the Month, just drop me a line.)

Now, let's learn a little more about Luke with the Infamous FOM Questionnaire!

Name (feel free to use a fake name)?
Lucas O'Neill Durham, ESQ.

Age?
26 & 1/3

Where y'at?
Today, Nashville. The rest of the time, the bustling metropolis of Mentone, AL.

Something the average interweb browser wouldn't know about me is…?
I'm the world's greatest golf cart driver.

The music scene in (where you live) is…?
In Nashville: A little tiresome. I feel like there's a lot of the same kinds of stuff around here. I was into the scene for a while, but SOMEONE moved to NYC. I'm not bitter.

(Editor's Note: We're talking about Erin Andrews, right?)

In Mentone: Banjos. Lots of banjos.

(Editor's Note: And jugbands? Tell me there are jugbands!)

Whatcha do for a living?
Ride around in a golf cart and tell kids what to do at a summer camp called Camp Laney.

When was the last time you ate at Burger King?
About 3 years ago, before they started with the new ad campaign with the King in it. Dude freaks me out.

You have one meal left in life but it has to be fast food. You can pick and choose different items from different joints. Name that meal!
#1 from Chic-fil-a: Original Chick Sangwich. Arby's curly fries. Cheesy Gordita Crunch from TB. Jamocha Shake from Arby's. And to drink, a suicide from Jack in the Box. I got fatter typing that.

(Editor's Note: Amazing--this is the first FOM to actually pick items from different franchises. Throw in a Sonic Reese's Blast made by Megan at the Sonic in Franklin, TN, and you've basically got my last meal. Well constructed, sir.)

What music publications/blogs/sites do you read? Any of them good?
I've got a subscription to SPIN b/c I couldn't say no to the scary man that came to my door. Otherwise, you're my only real insight into the music world.

What's on your Christmas list?
A White Christmas. I'm starting to think it's a myth. Also, as much as I drive, a GPS.

Pick your dream concert. Any three (living) artists, anywhere, any venue, any month, any time of day. What is it? What's it called?
Artists: Outkast opens, MMJ keeps it going, and Pearl Jam takes it home
Venue: Red Rocks
Month: Late September
Time: Dusk
Title: Melting Face

(Editor's Note: Anything that includes the phrase, "Outkast opens" is 1) something I need to be a part of and 2) something that might make my head explode.)

You can pick one album as your morning alarm for a year. The songs and their “wake-up” segments will shuffle randomly, but you are stuck with this album for a full year. What is it?
The Best of Van Morrison b/c it reminds me of back porches, meats on the grill, and simpler times.

If you could fight any public figure, who would it be and why?
First person that popped into my head is Michael Moore. But Ron Jaworski is climbing quickly.

Who wins in a fight: Michael Moore or Ron Jaworski? How does it play out?
Michael Moore unexpectedly comes up to Jaws' house and starts yelling about how MNF is un-American and treads on the little people. The verbal berating continues until Jaws does his patented "duck-waddle-drop-back" and knocks out Moore with one punch. He then uses a telestrater to circle his himself and makes a completely asinine, useless, and loud comment about how the punch unfolded.

(Editor's Note: Or, asks John Gruden to take over the telestrator and caps it off by saying, "Look at this football play in this football game with football players--pow! That's how they do it in the...NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE.")

Fill in the blanks!

Five favorite artists from the 60's are…?
The Beatles, Zeppelin, Stevie Wonder, Greatful Dead, & Jimi Hendrix.

Five favorite artists from the 90's are…?
Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters, STP, Green Day, & Collective Soul.
Five favorite artists from the 2000's are…?
The Gabe Dixon Band, Pearl Jam, MMJ, Outkast, & Chris Milam, of course.

Some more singer/songwriters I love are… ?
Jeff Buckley, Josh Ritter.

....is my favorite Beatle.
Honestly, I don't know enough about the individual Beatles to give a meaningful answer, so I'll go with Ringo. Great name.

...is my favorite adjective in the English language.
"Bodacious" or "radical." Anything the ninja turtles used, I'm down with.

Favorite wrongly-heard song lyric is...? (e.g. "Excuse me while I kiss this guy...")
Anytime "Stu" is substituted for "you." Or, "Hey, jelly bean!" Gin Blossoms.

(Editor's Note: So, "Look at the stars, look how they shine for...Stu"? And, for the Gin Blossoms, I believe the lyric is from "Hey Jealousy." Rather than "hey, jealousy," it's heard "hey, jelly bean!" Nice.)

What is a...

...Jinglehorse?
The horses from the Budweiser commercials. And the name of your next illegitimate child.

...Turtle dove?
A mythical animal, like a phoenix, from the far east.

...Calling bird?
A technologically savvy blue jay.

...Rooty-toot-toot?
An ingredient for figgy pudding.

...Rummy-tum-tum?
My new favorite drink, of which I will spend the next night figuring out the ingredients.

Rank these items in order of awesomeness: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, steak, Dave Chappelle, fantasy football, Christmas, the state of Mississippi.
1) Christmas
2) Fantasy Football
3) Steak
4) Complete works of Shakespeare
5) Dave Chapelle
6) Mississippi (look another list they're at the bottom of....)

(Editor's Note: Denigrating Chappelle and Mississippi in the same paragraph! I oughtta sick Ron Jaworski on you.)

What is the one movie that most puts you in the holiday spirit?
Christmas Vacation. Certainly nothing girly, like Love Actually.

(Editor's Note: How dare you.)

Give me your Top 3 Christmas movies of all-time.
1. Christmas Vacation
2. A Christmas Story
3. Home Alone

Give me your Top 5 favorite Christmas songs, and your favorite version of each.
1. "Angels We Have Heard On High" - Any version sung in a church.
2. "Sleigh Ride" - The original version (if there are multiple).
3. "Jingle Bell Rock" - The one from Home Alone.
4. "O Holy Night" - Any version sung in a church when everyone is holding candles.
5. "Chipmunk Song" - The only version.

(Editor's Note: According to Wikipedia, the "original" recorded version of "Sleigh Ride" was performed by the Boston Pops in 1949. It was instrumental. Also according to Wikipedia, I have an IQ of 230, the power of flight, and "World's Dreamiest Eyes.")

On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being "Chris watches baseball," 10 being "Chris plays in the Superbowl," how excited are you EVER to eat ham? Not pork. HAM.
2. Only because someone could offer me bologna instead.

What is figgy pudding?
My best guess is a bad pet name for a girl. Or something that tastes awful.

(Editor's Note: "Figgy pudding" as a pet name for a girl is one of the best things I've ever heard. Right behind "One Big Holiday" by MMJ, and right ahead of "Alabama is your 2009 SEC Champion.")

Does Coke out of the Santa can taste different?
Yes. It tastes like snuggle-times.

You can move anywhere in America for six months. Money, time, and job situation are no object. Name the place.
Rancho la Quinta, CA. Warm days, cool nights, not the hustle bustle of a big city, and good golf.

You can move anywhere on earth for six months. Same deal. Same place, or do you become an expat?
Italy. Never been, need to go.

Other than football, what's the one thing on your weekly DVR that you cannot miss?
Lie to Me.

You are going out tonight. You are going out to do whatever it is you would like to do for a fun night of festivity and frivolity. This can include anything from vandalizing reindeer lawn decorations to sipping nog to roasting chestnuts to watching a Clippers game. You get to assemble your posse for the night. You can pick ANY FOUR MEN OR ANY FOUR WOMEN on the planet, friends, celebrities, athletes, etc. Who is in your entourage and why?
Tiger Woods, for what are now, very obvious reasons. Just kidding here. Seriously:
1.My bro, because I feel like I'm going to need someone I know and trust to bail me out on a night like this.
2. You, because you'd need to be here for this.
3. The College Gameday Crew, because you know Herbstreet & Fowler are fun as hell to party with. Corso would be hysterical to see out on the town, while also providing someone to laugh at. And Desmond seems cooler than anyone that I've ever met. Plus, great sports conversation.
4. Percy Harvin, because I love him.

(Editor's Note: I think this posse should find Ron Jaworski and pick a fight.)

Who challenges Percy to a race first: Desmond Howard, me, or Lee Corso? And who wins?
Desmond is too laid back and has too much to lose. Corso is probably drunk and wearing the Big Al headgear. So, by default, Chris Milam. You fall down at the starting gun, laughing. Percy still runs a 4.3 and then he and I do our newly created best friend handshake/high five.

(Editor's Note: This is exactly what would happen.)

On a scale of "Chris when he found out Kings of Leon's leadoff single would be titled 'Sex on Fire'" to "Chris when he realized how much he loves Fountains of Wayne, sans irony," how surprised were you to hear about Tiger Woods?
Much closer to you liking Fountains of Wayne. I'd never expect it from Tiger given what I've seen of him and my assumptions of him as a person. But, you never really know what he's like. It is shocking that he could cheat on a woman like Elin. But what's most shocking is that it's over 10 women and not an isolated incident or mistake. He seems more like David Duchovny than Kobe Bryant right now.

Where will music be in 5 years? What will be the next "big thing"? Where would you like to see it go?
I'm not really sure, but I don't see it changing too much. A lot more of the cookie-cutter-popsters that the mainstream media will force feed us. There will still be the occasional talent that rises to the top and indies will continue to get their stuff out there through all the new networking technology. But, overall, it's about the money and the label execs will keep it right down the middle.

Finally, how can I ever thank you for the support?
Saturday, December 18th I'll be at Fiesta Azteca at 4PM. Be there.

Done, and done. I live there.

Songs for December

It's here.

December: the twilight of the year, autumn's dead end, winter's gorgeous prologue, and a season unto itself. It's chilly but warm, wintry yet inviting. In December, the weird rainy autumn of November dissolves, but all of its heady magic amplifies; it should be a time to wind down, but winds itself up instead.

Because December's the last month, it's also the climactic month. You unconsciously tally the year's successes and failures, crunch those heartening numbers, and start a final, mad, lovelorn bumrush at making four weeks count. It's as though your loves, or losses, or your life might expire with each year's final breath. It's closing time. The clock's ticking.

Rather than the bleak, cold, emotionally desolate realities of winter, December's brings polar opposite. You don't just want to make things count; you want to make them right. You want to finish strong. Your heart swells like the Grinch. You have a newfound appreciation for Lifehouse. You can't stop watching Love Actually. It's cliched to the point of Hallmark cards, but it's true: the holiday season is a season of giving. People embrace each other--literally (as November's FOM dubbed it the "Snuggle Belt"), and figuratively (glad tidings, good will toward men, etc.)--without fear of reproach or rejection.

So here, now, are 31 songs for closing time. Songs that sound like the last winded sprint toward the finish line. Songs that sound like a hopeful end and a brave new beginning. Songs that sound like a trumpet's clarion call or a sax's rainy lament. These are songs that go all-in, for better, for worse, and for the best.

They are 31 Songs for December!

(Plus the Random iTunes Pick)

Be sure to tell me your Songs for December in the comments section...

Green Day, "See the Light"
The sequel to "21st Century Breakdown," it's the album's final chapter, and marks the beginning of the end. It rhymes nicely with my Songs for October, which begins with "21st Century Breakdown," its companion piece. Here, the song is properly sped up, the lyrics more hopeful but more urgent. It fades out into a great unknown, ready for anything.

The Killers, "Losing Touch"
Multiple December themes at work here:
1) Going home, and ensuing headiness.
2) Reaching a tipping point in relationship.
3) Needing resolution, one way or another.
Bonus points for two musical traits I associate with the month: horns, metallic percussion (triangle/bell sounds), and keys.

The Thrills, "One Horse Town"
Though the album (So Much For the City) resides in spring/summer, I discovered it in December 2006. So, I always associate the rhythmic hustle and bustle and melodic warmth of "One Horse Town" with a Christmastime homecoming. Lyrically, it also describes those homecomings aptly.

Bob Dylan, "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry"
So much middle-60's Dylan has a wintry quality to it--something about the key-driven, starkly percussive production, matched with his cold-weather imagery, set that scene either explicitly or implicitly. "It Takes a Lot to Laugh..." has always been my favorite of those piano-led blues shuffles, and it takes place as "wintertime is coming." Its mood is lyrically wistful, but musically upbeat; it's the perfect combo for the month.

Otis Redding, "That's How Strong My Love Is"
Some artists, or even albums, are just made for a certain season. Phantom Planet is a summertime band. The Beach Boys are a summertime band. The Counting Crows Hard Candy should've been titled This Is What October Sounds Like, And Deal With It. And there is no artist I listen to more in December--every December--than Otis Redding. Part of it's the sound (e.g. aforementioned horns). Part of it's the mood. Part of it's his approach to the songs themselves: even the sad love songs are still generous of spirit. They're down, but they're not out. And the cheerful love songs enact the joy of having loved ones to share the holidays with.

Whiskeytown, "The Ballad of Carol Lynn"
This song sounds like one long, sustained, doubtful sigh. It tries to put something unresolved into perspective; you can practically hear the two people exhaling after a big fight. If this isn't Whiskeytown's best, it's certainly one of their prettiest.

Beatles, "Norwegian Wood"
And the trials and turmoils of our autumn relationships continue. Maybe it's the girl depicted, maybe it's the story in full, or maybe it's the strange and stark production, but this song just sounds cold, and not in a good way. Not everything can be "snuggly" in December.

Bumpercrop, "Sinking Stone"
Bumpercrop wins the award for "biggest gap between a band's notoriety and the number of times they're mentioned in my Monthly Playlist." Still, I had to include "Sinking Stone." It was my introduction to Bumpercrop in November of 2002, and I listened to it on multiple trips home from school that December. For a mid-tempo song with little changes or dynamism, it's never dull, and always gorgeous.

Avett Brothers, "Laundry Room"
Ah, there are those keys again. And there's that homecoming imagery again. And there's that lyric: "tonight I'll burn the lyrics/cause every chorus was your name." Uh...busted.

Stereophonics, "Lying to Myself Again"
To really do December right, you've gotta take one long, hard, merciless look in the mirror. Then, start moving.

Wallflowers, "Invisible City"
For reasons I can't define and certainly can't explain (there is no tangible link here, just trust me), this song reminds me of "Silver Bells." If "Silver Bells" had a non-holiday-related, morose, evil step-cousin. Let's move on.

REM, "Electrolite"
I could write all day (and nearly have in the past) about how REM manages to speak some unreal, intangible language of the soul...but I won't now. Suffice it to say that "Electrolite" is everything a great December song should be: intimate, superficially mellow yet full of weird chemical intensity, piano-laden, generous, unabashed, honest, and cheerfully vulnerable.

Augustana, "Twenty Years"
You heard me. They wrote something after "Boston," and guess what: it's really probably maybe not bad at all. Not even a little. It's full of piano-powerchord-operatics and anthemic orchestral swells and totally-menial-yet-strangely-affecting lyrics. Don't ask me why a line like "fall asleep with the TV, darling" would matter this much. It just does; in December, everything matters this much.

Coldplay, "Fix You"
And just when you thought it couldn't get any more piano-laden or anthemic, welcome to Coldplay's four-part harmony and gorgeous otherworld, where lovers can just love each other, man, perpetually walk the streets just seriously, soul-crushingly, loving each other, pining for better days with the innocent and earnest hearts of newborn babes, all while the soft and symbolic rainfall of a Hemingway novel punctuates the scene. This isn't Coldplay on a good day--this is Coldplay on their best day. It's gorgeous, and disarming, and undeniably powerful.

Craig Armstrong, "Glasgow Love Theme"
Like November before, the middle of December gets an instrumental that wordlessly says it all. This piece from the Love Actually soundtrack calms the story, lends "peace on earth" to this piece of musical earth. It sets the stage for a turning point, a homecoming, the last gasp, and--maybe--a happy ending.

Band of Horses, "Is There a Ghost"
Maybe it's the cold, haunting production. Maybe it's the orchestral power of the song's latter half. Maybe it's the fact that I listened to this album a lot last December. Maybe it's just pretty. Anyway, it sets me moving.

Beach Boys, "God Only Knows"
And the Love Actually soundtrack has its second credit! An amazingly generous song that both gives everything to its subject and gives no credit to its narrator. It's intensely vulnerable, honest, and winning; the sound of a man who barely trusts himself, but trusts love so much that he's fearless.

Delta Spirit, "Strange Vine"
Re: keys.

(Side Note: I know I'm incredibly late to this part, but I got Ode to Sunshine a month ago and have really enjoyed it. This will probably sound insane, but it sounds like Phantom Planet and the Avett Brothers' lovechild to me. In all the right ways.)

Raconteurs, "Intimate Secretary"
Personal memories attached to this one, involving me, my car, Belle Meade Christmas decorations, and Kroger. Sort that out.

Lucero, "Goodbye Again"
Chalk this up as reason #2,081 why 1372 Overton Park is Lucero's best album yet: they channel Otis Redding. "Goodbye Again" is a nod to a different strain of pop songwriting; from the square, slow backbeat to the horn arrangement, to the way the chord progression provides space for the musicians to fill or leave empty. Ben's lyric and vocal might be Lucero, but everything else pays a beautiful homage to a Memphis original.

Wilco, "Was I In Your Dreams"
In terms of arrangement, this is the Wilco version of Lucero's departure: a slow, boozy, cocksure, barroom shuffle. From the jazzy piano and organ trills to the light horn accents, everything about this song musically sets the scene of a man walking home from a Christmas party at 2AM. He's telling himself what he needs to tell himself, and he feels good even though he shouldn't. He's alone, but he's cool with it.

Dr. Dog, "100 Years"
As we march toward one year's end, we look forward to looking back.

Pawtuckets, "Broken Heart"
Usually, December's a time for cheer, festiveness, time with loved ones, and happy endings. Sometimes, all that seasonal love can turn sour. If it does (and I hope it doesn't), this is what it sounds like, and this is what you should listen to. "Broken Heart" won't cheer you up, but it'll give you company when you're down.

Cory Branan, "Darken My Door"
One of my all-time favorites from Branan's unreleased catalog, "Darken My Door" is an incredibly intimate song about physical distance. Even when our narrator's alone, the girl stays with him, and in the song. It's a gorgeous, simple melody, an impeccable lyric, and its vulnerability makes it at home in December.

Lyle Lovett, "Christmas Morning"
Layup!

The Temptations, "I Wish It Would Rain"
In classic Motown fashion, "I Wish It Would Rain" makes a lament sound like a celebration. To me, that's true for this month: even the bad times aren't that bad. There's too much to celebrate, too much to enjoy, too much good out there. Even if you have a bad day, you can glide above it.

(Side Note: Yes, I realize this song lyrically does the opposite: tries to make a positive into a negative. But musically, it does the opposite. Hence, multi-dimensionality. The lesson, as always: Motown was good.)

Pearl Jam, "Low Light"
True story: when Yield came out, I was still playing catch-up as a Pearl Jam fan. That Christmas (98?), my brother and his friend were making some mixes to enjoy while driving around back home. They had written the tracklists, but those sheets had many changes and edits. For the purposes of cleaning up/consolidation, they wanted to type the track lists. I volunteered, because I was a humanitarian in 1998. Anyway, "Low Light" was on the tracklist. Because of sloppy hand-writing--and my Pearl Jam ignorance at the time--I typed, "Pearl Jam - Cow Light." And then was ridiculed mercilessly. For volunteering to type their tracklists.

So, this song (a Top 10 Pearl Jam Favorite of mine) always reminds me of 1) December and 2) cows. The mind is a wonderful thing.

Counting Crows, "Long December"
Layup! This song lives in December, but it also aligns with December in terms of personal connections. During the same time (98-99ish) as the "Cow Light" debacle, my brother's friends would come home from college and often hang out at our house. They'd stay up almost all night catching up, trading stories from school, and generally being relentlessly cool. Meanwhile, I had reached an age/level of acceptability that I was allowed to hang out. There was always music in the background--usually mixes or favorites people brought over--and one night Recovering the Satellites must've played 6 times consecutively.

And I'm fourteen, and I'm getting this intense, fly-on-the-wall education about my brother, and his friends, and College Things, and all coolness therein, and what it looks like when older kids like each other, and what it looks like when college girls flirt, and there's this never-ending avalanche of great pop music I've never heard before, and Recovering the Satellites cycles until the last car leaves at 5am and I'm still listening an hour later, by myself in the den, too wired to sleep...and then there's "Long December" again while this new sun comes up...and what I'm trying to say is this: that was a great night.

Sam & Dave, "Bring It On Home To Me"
This song is so pitch-perfect--so effortlessly winning and cheerful and warm--and its arrangement so in-line with the aforementioned December mood (keys, horns, etc.), it's destined to close a holiday-season rom-com with Sarah Jessica Parker, backing a final "party" montage of white people hugging each other and dancing uninhibitedly while wool and knowing glances abound. And when that happens, you think I'll be sad. But I won't. I will see that movie, twice, and I will love that montage, and I will nod my head and chuckle to myself like a crazy person. Because it's December, man.

Rolling Stones, "Shine a Light"
I think I've picked a song from Exile for most months of the year, so why not include its closer for December? Not much more to add, other than to point out the "light" motif running through this playlist. From Green Day to the Stones, I'm intertwining some serious imagery. Didn't think I was working on that level, did you?

My Morning Jacket, "It Makes No Difference"
The Band's original would give us an unhappy ending, but I prefer (and picked) MMJ's cover for this reason: it breaks free. While the lyrics are trapped in a state of unresolved heartache and turmoil, the music tells a different story. It pushes itself forward, explodes, and plows ahead with certainty, then some degree of contentment, then something like jubilation. While the Band's harmonies were mournful, MMJ's sound sunny and triumphant. In the song's climactic moment (the bridge's transition into the final chorus), the band drops out, only to be signaled by James's defiant final vocal for a last charge. The trading guitar and sax solos create a perfect dialogue, equal parts anguished and cheerful. It's a bittersweet and ambivalent song, to be sure, but it's also winning. It puts up a fight, and it's ready for more. It's proof that the right sad song can make you feel infinitely better than a happy one.

And the iTunes Random Pick for December is...
The Band, "Katie's Been Gone"

Oh, sweet irony.

What are your Songs for December? Hit up the comments and let me know.

Oh, and keep a lookout. I'm to do a special list later in the month: Songs for Christmas!

Until then,
CM

Up Liner Notes

I'm writing this on Monday, November 30th. Tomorrow (today, as you're reading), is December 1st. If history and technology is any guide and iTunes chooses not to be a merchant of propaganda and lies, my third album Up will hit the interwebs as you're reading this! That's worth repeating:

Up is out!

My third album is on iTunes right now!

Go get it!

Now that I've got my shameless plug in, I wanted to talk/type a little more about the record. It's a digital-only release, meaning it's only available for purchase online. You can't get a hard-copy unless a friend burns you one, which, by the way, I really encourage.

I chose to release the Up as digital-only--at least for now--because it's much less expensive, and much more efficient, in terms of getting the music straight to you as soon as possible. Fewer and fewer people consume music in a tangible way--CDs or vinyl--and I don't know if it's a good thing or bad thing. But I know this much:

I'll miss the liner notes. And album art. The packaging of an album is an artform unto itself. So, I wanted to use this space to give everyone who contributed to the album their due proper. Here are my Liner Notes for Up, an album with a story. Here's my short story behind the story.

------------------------------------------------------------

In January 2009, I was exhausted. I had recently released the Tin Angel EP, and had been touring on and off for a few years promoting it and Leaving Tennessee, my first album. I'd been in Tennessee my whole life, and lived in Nashville for seven years.

I was spent. Dead, flat, tired, exhausted, and close to emotionally bankrupt. I'd spent the last three years chasing everything in one direction, going 100 mph, without stopping, and without stopping to consider that I was tired. So, in January 2009, I finished the last few shows on my calendar and booked nothing else.

Then, I did what anyone in my position would do: I went to Arkansas.

For two months in the dead of winter, I did nothing but write songs in an upstairs room in Arkansas. I took no calls, answered no emails, booked no shows, pursued no angles. I told my entire life in Nashville--professional contact, personal relationships--that I'd see them in April.

For eight straight weeks, I forced myself to do nothing but consider where I'd been, and where I might go next. I was amazed by what happened. I wrote. A LOT. I wrote about everything I’d seen and heard over the those past few months and years that had built me up and worn me out. I woke up every day at 7AM and wrote until sundown. Some songs were hard to write; others were easy. Some took a while; some arrived fully-formed. The floodgates had opened, and eventually song after song came pouring out. Handfuls, then dozens. I just tried to keep up.

I came back to Nashville on April 1st with a mountain of new songs, a handful of cash, a window of time, and a plan: I was moving to New York in the fall. I was going to make a record before I left, release it in NYC, and start the next chapter in my life and career.

So, I took a stack of songs neck-deep to my friend and producer Steve Martin and asked him what he thought. He said, "you have to make this record."

I said, "I'll only make it if you produce it."

He said, "how's August."

I said, "I'll have a week."

The session was booked, the plan was set: August 16-23 we holed up in Steve's East Nashville home studio and started to make an album. No session players, no independent contractors, no background singers, no support staff, no extra engineers, and no sleep. If Up was going to tell my story, I had to tell it my way: with the most stripped-down, intimate sounding record I could make. Two guys, nine songs, seven days, a roomful of instruments, some microphones.

The result is Up. It is the most narrative and deeply personal album I’ve ever recorded. Leaving Tennessee was a starting point; Tin Angel was a pop showcase. But Up is my story, told in a new language, spare and intimate and honest, unabashed and vulnerable, explicit and implicit in every turn. It's unlike anything I've done before, and I'm proud of it. Its story began in January, but it happened in a flash. It was a long time coming, but it's the work of a moment. It’s a little time, a little room, a lot of inspiration, a lot of energy, and some luck. We hit record, then hit print.

Then, I moved to New York in October. And, as usual, I came with a suitcase, a guitar, a stack of songs, and a plan.

Now I’ve got a new home, a new lease, a new album, and a new story. I tell it every time I step onstage, and every time you hit play. I hope some part of it sounds like your story, too. I hope it can keep you company if you need some. I hope it can bring you up if you're down. I hope it can keep you there, too. I hope you like it. I hope you love it.

I know I do.

Up Tracklist:
1) In the Air Tonight - Lyrics
2) Maria, Maria - Lyrics
3) Up - Lyrics
4) Thirteen Hours - Lyrics
5) If You Don't Love Me By Now - Lyrics
6) Coldweather Girls - Lyrics
7) Melanie - Lyrics
8) Edge of the World - Lyrics
9) The Boy in the Bubble (Paul Simon cover) - Gotta buy it!






Of course, I take pride in Up because it owes itself to the talent, support, hard work, and inspiration of so many other people. I was a small factor in its creation, so I'd like to list the handsome majority now. Here's to everyone who had a hand in Up, whether deliberately or tangentially, front to back, inspiration to publication.

A Million Thanks To:

Steve Martin, Producer, Engineer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Impresario of Beards. For those of you who don't know Steve, or haven't read about him in this space before, Steve Martin is a sound-prodigy in Nashville. I've known a lot of producers and engineers and live sound guys, and Steve's talent is peerless. He's already worked with seemingly everyone in Nashville--twice--and won't hurt for work in the future. There are a lot of guys with good ears and great gear out there; Steve's the rare producer who genuinely loves music, genuinely loves musicians, and always wants to get the best out of them. He seeks to understand the album he's making--theoretically a prerequisite for any production, but actually a rarity. He wants to get to the heart of each song, and serve it in its entirety.

So many times I'd "break," only to get a text from Steve that he had kept working without me, trying out new things, fixing things that were broken, masterfully breaking things that were fixed, etc. If I slept an hour the entire week, Steve couldn't have slept 15 minutes. He was tireless, and selfless, and this record is as much his as mine. Its strengths rest on his shoulders.

Steve Martin will not lack work in the near or distant future, but if you're needing a producer, he's absolutely your man. He's a great, great talent; catch him now.

And for all his hot-shot sound guy antics, he's a better friend than a producer. I owe him thanks for that as well.

Tamara McCray, Master Photographer, Pictographer, Mistress of Soul-Stealing Artforms
The album art for Up came from a shoot I did with Tamara McCray, a Nashville-based photographer, stylist, and all-around Renaissance woman . She is one of those disturbingly talented people who are good at something--anything--the moment they pick it up. She's got what the EyeTalEeOns call sprezzatura: the gift of doing something brilliantly while never breaking a sweat.

I found her photos off Steve Martin's recommendation, and he was right: that peculiarly warm, vintage, golden look of her photos matched my vision for the record exactly. She's a great photographer, a master navigator of the East Nashville backroads, an expert trespasser, and crazynice person. Look her up, twice.

My Parents, Brother, Aunt, Uncle, Extended Family, & Milam's Everywhere
For every reason I've told them before, and every reason I can't list here for fear of running out of bandwidth. I'm in your debt, and endlessly thankful for whose I am.

My Friends
Jay, Jerries, Memphians, Nashvillians, Collegians nationwide and abroad. I hope you all know who you are, because I can't list you here, because listing your names would cause the CIA to flag my site.

Wherever Ideas Come From
Apollo? Jesus? Waking dreams? A part of the brain-as-of-yet-undefined-by-science? A part of the brain-already-defined-by-science-but-unknown-to-me? Wherever you are, whoever you are, you're the best. Come around anytime. Really, my door's open.

Nashville
My first home away from home, and the site of the prologue. I'll see you soon.

Memphis
Where I'm from, and whose I am. My first love, and I always miss her.

New York
My second love. Any place with new challenges, things I haven't seen, heartbeats I can hear, horizons I can't see, any place that invites a dream, any place that shows the way. Professionally, I came for opportunity; personally, I came for possibility. Every day is a new day here, and I can't wait for tomorrow. I can't wait for January. I can't wait.

Any Place I Haven't Seen
Cause I got this picture in my head, and I'm always painting it.

You
To every single one of you who've bought a song off iTunes, come to a show, told a friend, read this blog, passed along a link, shared the music, and dropped me a line....

THANK YOU. I really can't thank you enough. It's such a gift to do this for a living, and it's incredibly humbling. This album belongs to you as much as anyone, and I can promise this much: it's just the beginning. It marks a new chapter for my career: I'm going to dedicate myself every day to sharing music with you, directly, as often as possible. Everyone who listens inspires me to do my best every day--all I can hope is that you love sharing the music as much as I do.

2010 (the official release of Up) will see a new album, a new tour, new opportunities, and many new fans and friends. I can't wait for it, and I hope you're as excited as I am.

***IMPORTANT: I've written this in the past, but it's worth repeating. I LOVE PIRACY. I made this album so that as many people could hear it as possible, and hopefully take something from it. Feel free to burn, rip, share, give away, and pirate it as much as you like. Put it on a million mixes for the holidays. But PLEASE--don't pirate "The Boy In the Bubble." It is a Paul Simon song and, out of respect for his work and my desire to remain unsued, please, please, please buy his original and my cover.

Maria/Melanie/Everything Between & Hereafter
I owe you royalties. I owe you much more. I hope you like this. It's yours.

Click here to get the record!

Enjoy-and please, turn it up.

Yours,
CM

Monthly Mailbag (Thanksgiving Edition)

The Monthly Mailbag is back!

This time, it's got a decidedly Thanksgiving-ish flavor. The readers have turkey on the brain, methinks. This Mailbag's a veritable Greatest Hits:
--Big Star
--Otis Redding
--Arbitrary List-Making

***And a List of Things I'm Thankful For (scroll to the bottom for that).

As always, these are actual emails from actual readers--if you'd like to be in a future Mailbag, drop me a line!

Here we go...

"Chris,
Listening to the song "Alex Chilton" by the Replacements raised in me two mailbag questions. I present each so that you may choose either or neither. 1. What is your take on the Replacements? I always read about them as being an Influential Band, but I did not try out their catalog until recently. It seems like they have a lot of connections to the music you write about (Big Star, 96X). 2. What are your top ten songs involving Memphis? As criteria, I would say songs involving Memphis can either be songs by artists associated with Memphis ("Blue Suede Shoes", "Green Onions"), songs which mention Memphis briefly in a verse ("Proud Mary"), or songs which mention Memphis in the chorus ("Sequestered in Memphis"). As a side note, the Rock n' Soul Museum claims that Memphis has been mentioned in song more times than any other city (link here).

Thanks for the writings,
Seth, Illinois"

Great questions. I'll take them both!

#1:
The Replacements: I'm theoretically a fan, but I rarely listen to them.

I love your capitalization of "Influential Band," because there is a subset of artists generally mentioned as "Influential" first, as if to distinguish between importance-through-influence and importance-through-popularity. These are often the bands people mention in "overrated/underrated" discussions. There's usually a disparity between a band's perceived influence and their actual impact on the masses during their career arc. The Replacements, among others, occupy this weird chapter in the book of pop history.

For example, the Smiths were very popular in their time, but their legacy today is more one of "Influential Band" than "Pantheon Pop Band." People consider their influence on pop culture and the subsequent generation of artists bigger than their actual commercial success. In a way, the Ramones are the ultimate exemplars of this phenomenon: everyone recognizes their influence, everyone knows individual songs from their catalog, yet they never approximated "pop star" status during their career (no Billboard chart hits, etc.). It's often said of the Velvet Underground that every initial fan they had started a band, and those bands became famous. They typify this phenomenon, and are perennially mentioned as an underrated, yet massively Influential Band. And, of course, there's Big Star. The list goes on...

Which brings us to the Replacements, Paul Westerberg's seminal rock project before his successful solo career. The Replacements were critically acclaimed and popular in their time--seminal to the 80's "alt-rock" movement that brought us The Smiths, REM, and U2 (to a degree), among many others--but not as commercially successful. As you say, they're regarded now as an "Influential Band" more than "Lasting Pop Success." So, what's the influence?

Anyone seeking Big Star comparisons can find ample fodder: earnest lyricism, intensely vulnerable songwriting, and a penchant for the happy-sounding-sad-song device Big Star pioneered and perfected. But while Big Star was a 70's powerpop band, the Replacements took that influence in an 80's alt-rock direction: they don't sound like a punk band, but they often feel like one. They're more aggressive percussively, rawer vocally, less polished production, etc. That ethos especially carried their reputation as a live band: Replacements shows were frequently self-destructive performance art pieces, frequently an hour-long descent into drunken dissolution that the crowd participated in, and cheered on.

(Hence, another Memphis band, Lucero, earned Replacements comparisons early in their career for their live antics.)

It's easy to see why the Replacements were so influential on alt-rock bands in the 90's. Their combination of vulnerable lyricism with sonic aggression helped defined the music of GenX. You can hear their impact on everyone from the Gin Blossoms to Soul Asylum, good bands of the 90's and bad. Paul Westerberg's decidedly more pop-friendly solo material also impacted 90's songwriters like Matthew Sweet and Adam Duritz, to name a few.

While I don't love the Replacements entire catalog (I admire it, I just don't always enjoy listening to it), there are some standout songs I'd recommend to anyone wanting a sampler.

"Skyway" is a gentle and generous love letter, a simple, pretty melody borrowing wisely from Big Star. You can hear "Skyway" in everyone from REM to Son Volt.

My favorite Replacements song, however, is arguably their most popular: "Unsatisfied." It's a 4-minute nugget of pop-rock outrage; anyone who's ever felt misunderstood will automatically relate to Westerberg's bewildered outcry: "Look me in the eye and tell me that I'm satisfied." With every repeated refrain, it becomes more desperate, and the singer sounds more alone, and more in awe of his isolation--what should be evident to everyone is understood by no one. It's a wonderfully brave song, and one of their best melodies.

#2:
Because there is no way for me to ever sort through the 900+ songs with "Memphis" in the title or lyric, I'll list ten of my favorite songs by Memphis artists that I think characterize what I love about the city. For fun, though, here are a few personal favorites of the first category:

Gin Blossoms - "Memphis Time"
The Hold Steady - "Sequestered in Memphis" (although I'm ambivalent about that refrain)
Chuck Berry - "Back to Memphis"
Paul Simon - "Graceland"
Lyle Lovett - "I've Been to Memphis"
John Hiatt - "Memphis in the Meantime"
Cory Branan - "Prettiest Waitress in Memphis"

And my all-time favorite with Memphis in the title:
Bob Dylan - "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again"

But now, let's get down to business...

Here are eleven of my favorite songs by Memphis recording artists that characterize some aspect of the city. Some I just have a strong memory of, or visceral connection to; some lyrically crystallize a part of the town; some sonically sound like the city, or a piece of its past. They're all indispensable, and they're as different and varied and weird and powerful as the city that's inspired them. Here they are, in no particular order...

1) Elvis, "Jailhouse Rock"
It's easy to forget in 2009--because that blues riff is standard now--but it wasn't then. Today's pop cliches were actually invented once, and "Jailhouse Rock" is one of rock's most influential song structures. But beyond its rockabilly skeleton, and its lyrical kitsch, it's Young Elvis's vocal that remains essential. It's this vocal--the impossibly controlled scream, the raw tone, its wild fluctuations, its boundless energy--that inspired so many after it. You can hear it in John Lennon's "Twist and Shout" and Daltrey's "Won't Get Fooled Again." When Cory Branan wants to "take a good swing at him/and turn and scream into the wind" in "Greenstreet Lullabye," this is what that feeling literally sounds like. It seems incapable of holding back, yet somehow does--a vocal that somehow coasts on its breaking point. It typifies the infectious, manic energy of so many Delta-based singers of the last century--blues, rock, pop, and folk alike.

2) B.B. King, "Every Day I Have the Blues"
Prototypical Memphis-blues in the Beale Street tradition. One of a million songs I could've picked, but a personal favorite. Like so many great blues standards, it celebrates feeling low.

3) North Mississippi All-Stars, "Shake Em On Down"
From the (relatively) old school to the (relatively) new: NMAS' take on a classic. At once faithful to each song's lineage and refreshingly innovative, the All-Stars can sound like a purist blues outfit and a hip-hop-infused hybrid within minutes. A 21st Century musical mish-mash of the Delta's best influences--performed with exuberance, innovation, and jaw-dropping musicianship.

4) Sam & Dave, "Hold On! I'm Comin'"
There's nothing that sounds more like the city of Memphis than the soul classics of Stax. "Hold On! I'm Comin'" is my personal favorite--it's a blistering, gorgeous tornado.

5) Booker T & the MG's, "Green Onions"
No list of Memphis's finest would be complete without the greatest house band in history: Booker T & the MG's. If Elvis personifies excitement, and B.B. is the truth, and Sam & Dave are the heart and soul, then "Green Onions" is effortless, wordless Cool. Try to remember a #1 hit since that was entirely instrumental, and try to think of another slice of pop music that communicated more without saying a word.

6) Otis Redding, "I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)"
My God, the parenthetical of the title. I mean, this song gets a mention for that parenthetical alone--it's a better line of poetry than anything Sufjan Stevens will ever write (please note: I've nothing against Sufjan Stevens...just making a point about what can, or should, be considered "deep" in pop music). Seriously, take out the capitalization and that's an e.e. cummings poem.

Anyway, of the million gifts Otis gave us, perhaps one of my favorites--and one of the most influential on Memphis artists since--is that a singer can be a bigger man by showing vulnerability. Which brings me to...

7) Lucero, "Sweet Little Thing"
I remember the first time I heard this song. Friends back home had told me that Memphis had their own nascent alt-country band, and their second album was a quiet tour de force. They passed along "Nights Like These" and "Sweet Little Thing," and I was sold within seconds. "Sweet Little Thing" was remarkable for its immediate placement in the alt-country canon, yet its refusal to wear its influences on its sleeve. Unlike Wilco, Son Volt, Whiskeytown, and Memphis-labelmates Pawtuckets, Lucero simultaneously sounded familiar, yet not explicitly derivative. Sonically, they were both more muscular than their peers, yet way, way sadder. All of these characteristics were on full display in "Sweet Little Thing," a perfect nugget of songwriting, made sadder by its brave face, and pushed over the top by Cory Branan's incomparable background vocals.

Seriously, Cory never sang a better three words in his life (which is saying something). They're dripping with angst, the perfect counterpoint to Nichols' false front of stoicism.

This song made me incredibly excited about the next generation of Memphis musicians, and was my introduction to two artists that would influence my own songwriting over the next several years.

8) Pawtuckets, "Broken Heart"
Cause no girls take longer to get over than the girls back home. Cause it's a perfect alt-country powerballad, in songwriting, in performance, and for its haunting lyricism: "This broken heart is fixed on you." When the singer needs a "familiar sound" to lift his spirits, the piano plays a Beale-street-infused barroom melody--a wonderful nod to Memphis's musical heritage, and an admission that no one can live in the past.

9) Three 6 Mafia, "Who Runnit"
Quintessential Memphis rap for the last decade: raw, squarely rhythmic, call-and-response vocals, combined with visceral, brassy, incredibly powerful production. In the mold of Stax soul classics and original rockabilly, it's impossible to hear Three 6's club anthems and not move. (And yes, this is the video where they hit the baby carriage with an Escalade.)

10) Big Star, "The Ballad of el Goodo"
I've written tomes about Big Star, and this song specifically. Nothing to more to add, except that it's the perfect pop anthem for the city: nothing this sad has ever sounded this happy. It goes down swinging heroically.

11) Cory Branan, "Greenstreet Lullabye"
I could've picked twenty different songs here--no hometown artist has meant more to me in my relationship with Memphis than Cory Branan. Like Edwin Arlington Robinson's Tarrytown, or Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha, or even the unreal London of Dickens, much of Branan's lyrics occupy, explore, illustrate, and eventually define a specific place. Usually , that place is Memphis. Perhaps no other Branan song is more firmly entrenched in this world, or is more lyrically successful in characterizing it:

"The copperheads fill all the ditches
The kudzu chokes the trees
Mosquitos hum like window units
But you gotta move if you want a breeze"

It places our narrator squarely in the Memphis of his--and our--youth. There's a local music scene that's at once exciting and alienating. There's a collection of people and places that are familiar but oppressive. There's a "dark, sad song stuck in the throat of this town," but it's too painful to ever sing out loud. Then, balancing a hopeful refrain ("there's always tomorrow") with a crucial rejoinder ("there's always...this dark, sad song"), the song erupts into the very cacophony it describes: guitars shriek, percussion explodes, sounds scratch and scrape against each other as Branan finally gives a musical voice to the "dark, sad song" he lyrically defined. It's a wonderful, multi-dimensional moment, and it characterizes a wonderful, multi-dimensional city. Sometimes, the beauty's in the noise.

"Hey Chris!

What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Will you be in New York? And what are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving,
Megan, Chicago"

Hey Megan! Thanks for writing, and Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.

I've taken some heat lately for implying that Thanksgiving might be overrated. I actually really enjoy Thanksgiving, and still think it's overrated. November's Fan of the Month, for example, loves Thanksgiving, and thinks it's underrated by its proximity to Christmas. I think that Thanksgiving is overrated by its proximity to Christmas. Here's a basic schedule for a standard Thanksgiving (leaving out each family's individual traditions):

--Wake up
--Watch a parade on television, which is a fancy way of saying "a ton of middle school bands from Ohio"
--Eat
--Fall asleep while watching the Detroit Lions lose
--Eat again
--Wake up the next day and realize it's Christmas season

Without the last bullet, this is a wildly anticlimactic holiday. If you put the same agenda in February, it would probably depress people. And sure, I really enjoy Thanksgiving, and get why other people do: it's time to spend with people you love, it's time off from work, it's fall's swan song, the food's good, there's football, and it's generally a snuggly time (thanks, Dr. Benway).

But Thanksgiving's best characteristic is that it ushers in the Holiday Season. You enjoy it because you know it's only the beginning of good, fun, holiday festivities. You know Starbucks is breaking out the red cups. You know all girls look good in sweaters. You know lights will go up. You know parties will abound. Merriment and frivolity will ensue. Peoples' hearts will double in size.

Thanksgiving is great because it's an awesome, yet distinct, prologue to the entire holiday season. Without the next chapter, though, that prologue is just a bunch of words.

All this to say...

I'm stoked about this year's Thanksgiving. I'm spending it in New York, which means it's my first away from home. As much as I'll miss my family and all the traditions and familiarity and shared experience that come with spending Thanksgiving at home, I'm excited to spend it with friends, and spend it in a new place. Thanksgiving is great, but it's not Christmas; it's meaningful, but it's not sacred. I'm coming home for Christmas, I'm always coming home for Christmas, and that's not open for discussion. With Thanksgiving, I'm open to change.

Some friends in Brooklyn host a Thanksgiving dinner every year, and invited me. So, that's how I'll spend Thursday. Eating an awesome meal hosted by three gracious hostesses and probably watching a ton of Christmas movies and doing none of the things I usually do, but kind of all the things I usually do.

I'm bringing the Fruit Roll-Ups.

And I'll take the last part last! As much as I've waxed poetic about what Thanksgiving means to me, I've overlooked its basic premise: it's a time to appreciate the good things in life. And I've got a lot to be thankful for this year. Here's a sampling...

What I'm Thankful For (a randomized litany by Chris Milam)

I'm thankful for Fruit Roll-Ups.

I'm thankful for my Thanksgiving hostesses. I'm thankful for people who can make any place feel like home. I'm thankful for that, because home can be a hard thing to find.

I'm thankful for the updates I get from Jack Daniels on Facebook.

I'm thankful for direct flights to Nashville. And Little Rock. And Los Angeles. I'm thankful that I'll be seeing all of you sooner than you think.

I'm thankful for Ray Rice. I'm thankful for Steven Jackson. I'm thankful for Brett Favre. I'm thankful for DeSean Jackson. I'm thankful for all of them, and the things they do. And I'll continue to be thankful through Week 16, please. Thank you.

I'm thankful that being an Alabama fan in 2009 is easy. Cause it usually isn't.

I'm thankful for Mark Ingram.

I'm thankful for Elixir Phosphor Bronze guitar strings. I'm thankful to have three unopened packages of them. There are few little things that make me happier than a new pack of strings, and what they do for Rose.

I'm thankful for healthy family, and healthy friends. Every day I can say that is a little miracle.

I'm thankful for wood to knock on.

I'm thankful for the last three episodes of Mad Men's Season 3. I'm thankful for anything in pop culture that continues to surpass expectations, anything that's so great you feel embarrassed for doubting it. Those things are rare.

I'm thankful for the kosher bakery across the street and the woman behind the counter. I'm thankful that she considers it her personal responsibility to feed me well. She always knows what I want, especially when I don't.

I'm thankful for ramen noodles, the antithesis of the kosher bakery across the street. I'm thankful for the bunch of nothing they are.

I'm thankful for sweaters that work.

I'm thankful for girls in sweaters that probably don't work.

I'm thankful for the trampoline I'm getting this Christmas. Fingers crossed.

I'm thankful for Christmas, a most wonderful time of the year. I'm thankful for Christmas music, and Christmas parties, and Christmas lights. I'm thankful for all the other holidays, too, if they'll have me.

I'm thankful for Christmas movies.

I'm thankful for Love Actually, which I only watch in December, but every December. I'm thankful for the condensed brilliance of Alan Rickman. I'm thankful for "Mmm...would we call her chubby?" I'm thankful for what that movie makes me want to do every time I see it. Which is become a terrific moron and call everyone in my phonebook, especially the people I normally wouldn't call. I'm thankful for the reminder that it's always a good time to tell someone "I miss you," or "I thought about you," or "I love you," or "I like you."

I'm thankful for Better Than Ezra. Way more than I should be.

I'm thankful for any music that's generous. Any music that gives without asking for anything return. This is the season for that music. I'm thankful for REM, and Big Star, and the Beach Boys, and so much Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, Pearl Jam, Gram Parsons, and so many more. And I'm thankful for Tom Petty, who's typically great, never The Best, but is always perfect.

I'm thankful for the guy at the corner store. I'm thankful for him carding me by saying, "how old are you," but refusing to look at my actual ID. He wants an answer, not a license.

I'm thankful for the morning smells of Thanksgiving. Turkey, and fresh bread, and three different pies. I'm thankful for the parade sounds buzzing from Mom's television in the kitchen. Thankful for the pots and pans waking me up. I'm thankful to be missing them.

I'm thankful for a new record, Up. I'm thankful for iTunes. I'm thankful for December 1, which is when these three things meet your ears, I hope.

I'm thankful for Steve Martin, his studio, and his immeasurable, indefatigable talents. I'm thankful for his belief in this record, these songs, and his commitment to them.

I'm thankful for you, listening, reading, and generally supporting. I'm incredibly thankful that I get to do this for a living. I don't know what I did right in a past life, but I'm thankful for that. I'm already thankful for 2010. It's going to be great.

I'm thankful for my family. Much more than I can say.

I'm thankful for my friends. Much more than I would say.

And I'm thankful for Fruit Roll-Ups.

--------------------------------------------

What are you thankful for? Hit up the comments and let me know!

And Happy Thanksgiving...have a great, safe holiday!
CM