Songs Ninety-Nine to One-Hundred and Six

On my marathon plane flights I got to catch up on my reading, and it wasn't all Program Review Policy drafts or meeting briefs, either. I finally got to read Allegra Goodman's Intuition, majorly great. If Edith Wharton wrote a novel about a cancer research lab, this would be it. Realizing how quickly I was tearing through the book, I picked up a complete trash novel, Gigi Levangie (Mrs. Brian) Grazer's Starter Wife at the airport, way fun; a Judith Krantz for the aughts. At one point, the heroine realizes she's become the Prince-listening version of her mom, sending a shiver of recognition through this blogger. Moms, waxed or unwaxed, we are the world. And, then I started Marilynne Robinson's Gilead, which is achingly beautiful and definitely not the book to read if you've been away from your children for five days--unless you want your row to witness you in tears for 6 hours. So, I switched to People. Apparently, Julia Roberts is unbelievably happy these days, and Matt LeBlanc is a dog. Ah, showbiz. Okay, more songs.

Song Ninety-Nine: Colin Hay, "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin." I hit the celebrity playlist of Ms. Mandy Moore and found this song. (Perhaps inspired by Z. B.'s tastes?) Who knew the Men at Work guy would have a second act? He has a really solid voice, and the openness of the song lets it work clearly. This could be shorter.

Song One-Hundred (enter celebration cake blog right): Elton John, "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters." One of the times I was pregnant (they were very close together and seem like one continuous two year period), we were obsessed with Untitled, the director's cut of Almost Famous. This is a great movie. And, I became obsessed with this song (and cried everytime it played . . . hormones, dear readers)--but not obsessed enough to buy an Elton John album (being out of junior high and everything). So, when I realized I could buy it on iTunes, yippee!!! A fantastic song and a great 100 milestone. [Elton John? Where'd you park your time machine?]

Song One-Hundred and One: Patty Griffin, "Let Him Fly." Another Mandy Moore cut. (Hey, she was really good in that movie about Christians with Macauley Culkin, Sarandon's daughter, and other marginal celebristars.) I know I've heard this song before but don't know where. It's a good song, and she has a grown-up voice--which is nice for a borderline folkie.

Song One-Hundred and Two: Boz Scaggs, "Heart of Mine." One of the cool things about iTunes is that one can buy just the one or two songs you remember loving in one's feckless youth. On my drive back from the airport last time, I heard another Boz Scaggs song on the radio and was completely transported back to the Southridge Mall. So, given that--as my husband noted--I am in possession of a time machine, I decided to download a couple Boz Scaggs song. You can't go wrong; they are so over-produced that you need a steak knife to slice through, plus killer drum fills, and his smooth, smooth voice. Full on cool!

Song One-Hundred and Three: Jerry Reed, "Amos Moses." I found this on an iTunes Essentials pre-mix entitled (no joke) More Cowbell! Well, it doesn't get more cowbell than this. I actually just flipped through one of those Smokey and the Bandit movies the other night, the one with an elephant. Gosh, the 70s were some time. What other decade could produce such a freaky spectrum of music--and Famolare shoes? This song is awesome. Insert rainbow here!

Song One-Hundred and Four: Low, "Monkey." Very scary opening--like Rob Base crossed with P. J. Harvey. Heavy drums, sonic depth. You can feel this song in your chest. Apparently, according to the lyrics, the "monkey" is dying this very evening. I'm not certain what that means, but it's certainly spooky and reverb-y! Has a very Eli Roth feel.

Song One-Hundred and Five: Ida, "Late Blues." Down tempo remembrance of things past with an organ, I think. Long musical break is pretty, melancholy, but the song is eventually a bit boring. I feel pained rather than feel their pain. Probably not what they're going for.

Song One-Hundred and Six: B. C. Camplight, "Richard Dawson." I'm not sure if it's that Richard Dawson, but let's pretend, dear readers. Very peppy song, 70s-style horn breaks--that completely recall Love American Style--and 80s-style drums. The lyrics amount to nothing but purposive rhymes. Quite disposable but fun.

259 to go.