max abelson's super groovy music video spectacular

#981: bob dylan - a hard rain’s a gonna fall (1975, rolling thunder revue)

a very special super groovy spectacular mix: 20 serious storm songs for sandy

(1) james carr’s these ain’t raindrops (2) charlie patton’s devil sent the rain (3) billie holiday’s come rain or come shine (4) ann peebles’ i can’t stand the rain (5) irma thomas’ it’s raining (6) dr. john’s blow wind blow (7) neko case’s fox confessor brings the flood (8) jerry garcia & david grisman’s dreadful wind and rain (9) the temptations’ i wish it would rain (10) the meters’ stormy (11) randy newman’s i think it’s going to rain today (12) tom waits on rain: rain dogs & more than rain & rains on me (13) karen dalton’s little bit of rain (14) r.e.m.’s so. central rain (15) bonnie ‘prince’ billy raining in darling (16) neil young’s see the sky about to rain (17) brian eno’s fullness of wind (18)the velvet underground’s hey mister rain (19) the sensational nightingales’ the storm is passing over (20) bob dylan’s a hard rain’s a gonna fall 

#968: randy newman - i think it’s going to rain today (1971, bbc)

randy newman is in the news today, which is never a bad thing. his new song, which lampoons racist fury about the white house, is good enough to forgive it for being a satirical little ditty whose chorus and title are bad bing crosby jokes. and because randy newman is one of fifteen people currently living who cannot be faulted, no one should point out that he’s already written songs from inside the cranial cavities of american racists (sail away) and xenophobes (political science) and rednecks (rednecks, from good old boys, which i would like to make into a musical), that aren’t just funnier, they’re terrifying and sublime.

instead of worrying about those details, and for something even more topical, listen to the windy storm tonight while watching our hero sing about rain — his other profoundly great subject. in a song that describes gray streaks, broken windows, empty hallways, stylish scarecrows, frozen smiles, chased-away love and kicked cans, “human kindness is overflowing” stands out as the saddest line. and that is why we love him.

#962: the band - time to kill, the weight, this wheel’s on fire and up on cripple creek (the syria mosque, pittsburgh, pa (1970)

i’m halfway into greil marcus’ mystery train, and the section on the band was almost totally perfect. “flowing through their music were spirits of acceptance and desire, rebellion and awe, raw excitement, good sex, open humor, a magic feel for history,” he says. “we knew that we would win if they succeeded and lost if they failed.”

and after this torrent of total truths he somehow—unimaginably—mentions that this wheel’s on fire doesn’t “fit in” on music from big pink, is “not emotionally convincing” but is instead “strained, contrived.” lies, all. 

what do you do with such a terrible misjudgment of one of the best songs on the band’s best album? in greil marcus’ case you can completely let it go because his book is so good. the randy newman and elvis sections are up next.

#900: randy newman, ry cooder and linda rondstadt - rider in the rain (1983)

friends, thank you so much for making it to music video #900. randy, linda, ry and i would like to remind you that we’re all riders in rain. and we’re on the prairie together.

#871: antony and the johnsons - thank you for your love (2010)

for reasons that are currently too complex to discuss i didn’t listen to all of antony and the johnson’s the crying light and swanlights, and for that matter somehow didn’t open my copy of robert penn warren’s all the king’s men, until this past week. the albums are like the kid a and amnesiac of decaying forests and fluttered eyelashes and empty bedsheets and throbbing clarinets. and so far all the king’s men is better than both randy newman’s good old boys and a.j. leibling’s the earl of louisiana, which is unlikely and immense. i am grateful for them.

#861: bob marley & the wailers - african herbsman (criteria studio rehearsal, miami fl, 1980)

i just wrote a novella-length dissertation on the wailers’ african herbsman as seen through the lens of randy newman’s sail away in mid-70s america. feeling pretty good about it.

#839: harry nilsson and shelley duvall - he needs me (popeye, dir. robert altman, 1980)

i will commit vegetable-powered violence against any man who makes the uproarious claim that harry nilsson couldn’t reach the romantically glorious heights climbed by his friend and fellow hollywood songwriter randy newman. anyone who disagrees that he needs me is one of the finest wet-eyed moments in swelling cinematic sounds is a no better than alliterative oxblood oxheart, harry hotcash, j. wellington wimpy, bill barnacle, poopdeck pappy or george w. geezil.

blutos are blutos because they’re untouched by the words “love can turn the wheel.”

#770: randy newman - louisiana 1927 (2008)

if you’re looking for something fine to do on this w.a.s.p.-eye-blue sunday, but don’t want to settle for a stroll in the park, then let me recommend spending one hour with randy newman’s good old boys and three with a.j. liebling’s the earl of louisiana.

the first is about the deep south and its barbers from tuscaloosa, princesses with hair piled up high, pitiful floods, pitiless presidents, mighty swords, mean dogs, machinist brothers in law, guilt and love. it would be the perfect american album if only sail away and my old kentucky home were on it and not two earlier randy newman records.

the second is what someone who’s much smarter than me once said is the single finest thing to ever appear in the new yorker, which is true except it wasn’t a single piece: i believe a.j. liebling’s story about louisiana governors earl and huey p. long—whose song every man a king is on good old boys, along with his photograph—was so big that it took up three issues. it’s got caligula, hollering, national guard planes, texas sanitariums, new orleans private hospitals, race tracks, hot springs, pricefighters, and stumping for the gubernatorial nomination, all in one paragraph. 

read it outside today, with breaks to listen to randy newman, and you’ll be alright.

#765: silver jews - random rules (1998)

one reason that i didn’t post a music video on tuesday or wednesday is that i’ve been very busy in the newsroom, and another is that i’ve been very busy worrying about my records. my bookcase has been so full of them that you can’t really pull one out or put it back in afterward without messing a whole row up, and that makes me very upset. the other night my dad tried to look at randy newman’s 12 songs and it was a fiasco. i wish that were a joke, but it isn’t.

there hasn’t even been room at all for some random albums, like bonnie “prince” billy’s lie down in the light, which my ex-girlfriend got me, and the silver jews’ american water, from the ex-girlfriend before that one. they’re random only because i don’t buy recent music on vinyl for myself, though of course i always appreciate it as a gift, like when in november my non-ex-girlfriend leon got me joanna newsom’s huge and perfect have one on me.

so imagine my feelings this saturday night: i was walking down my block on the way to dinner, wearing a tie for no reason, when i saw a medium-sized bookcase that looked reasonably clean and exceedingly suitable for solving all these terrible overflow problems. if you don’t believe those problems are real, or that i don’t really take them seriously, here are five posts about albums i got at my favorite record store, and here are nine posts with eight personal album photos and one of a cassette.

so, of course, i did what any reasonable but concerned person in a tie on his way to saturday night dinner would do. i picked up the bookcase, moved it 30 feet, gave my keys to a passerby, who opened up the door to my building so that i could haul in the bookcase, carried it up five flights of stairs, put the bonnie “prince” billy, silver jews, and joanna newsom albums inside it, and went on my way to dinner. since then i’ve been thinking very carefully and at great length about which records will be moved in with them over from the first bookcase.

no, i haven’t! none of this is true, it was lifted off a men’s room wall and from a description i heard once of what nick hornby’s writing’s like. or was it?