Another in a continuing series on my top-ten favorite bands.

9. The Kinks

Oh yeah, the Kinks, the silly Kinks...

It should be said that of the many different "pop groups" that I now like, I started out actually disliking the Kinks quite a bit. Most of their music is not like their first hits "You Really Got Me" and "All Day and All of the Night." The disparity between their "hits" and their recorded catalog certainly did not endear me to them. If I tried to find a popular point of reference for the Kinks, it might be fair to say that they do sound like "Tired of Waiting" on most of their recordings, except more British, a lot more British. I distinctly remember hearing "Autumn Almanac" for the first time and thinking that they were making music for people that only have bad teeth and rough, working-class accents (with the Kinks there is often a tendency toward hyperbole and sarcasm that tend to fit well into such stereotypes). What I know now is that Ray Davies could give two shits about who listens to his music, he just makes what he thinks is good for him, and throws the rest to the wind.

There was a time where the Kinks wouldn't have even shown up in my top twenty. I spent many years taking my music choices way too seriously and kind of missed out on being open to new things. I'm pretty sure I liked some of their stuff, but again, the Kinks are hard to describe in words that one might use to talk about music, or least words that rock critics use. What they do is just right there, out-front, like it or not. It's best that I just say what I like and not worry about it too much, and expect you to buy all of this music so that you can confirm that I'm crazy for holding out on liking them.

What always strikes me about the songwriting of Ray Davies is that it's so pedestrian, so basic and straight-forward, yet subversive and always on the verge of sorrow. A lot of people who like the Kinks point to Face the Face for this, but I like Something Else. If you think about all of the songs people write, and how much pop music informs and reflects real life, songs about looking through the employment section of a newspaper, doing chores and walking over a bridge should not a recipe make for glorious pop confection. Of course when it come to the Kinks, these subjects are deep and revealing, and the songs are more mature than many (read: every one) of Ray Davies contemporaries.

A lot of the time, the qualities that make a band universal are usually the grudging 10th and 11th reasons why we actually like a band. In other words, because we so often quantify our "enjoyment" by rating bands in a way that takes away from the intangible elements of music, we boil down discussions of bands to talking points. Simple things that don't in any way capture the true spirit of the music, and often minimize the artistic brilliance within. No matter what you actually feel about the music, if you choose to discuss music with an intensity that seeks to make one band better than another, all you are gonna be able to agree on is Sheryl Crow and Linda Ronstadt; artists who aren't "bad," but aren't really satisfying in any way.

I think to some degree this sort of logic prevented me from even listening to the Kinks, much less letting their art effect me. In a lot of ways, this resistance to the unknown allows me to this day to be surprised and delighted by any and all kinds of music. Which brings me to the real reason why the Kinks are number nine on the list. When I worked at Guitar Works, we would listen to all types of bands and performers, but unfortunately, I didn't always have control over the radio. There seemed to be a period of time where my manager was determined to make me like music that he liked and nobody else did. After many weeks of Lodger, Goodbye Cruel World and Face to Face, Geoff brought in a copy of The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society. Yes, this is a "classic" and a "undiscovered gem," certainly a cliched epiphany, but it was during the second song, "Do You Remember Walter" that I finally pulled my head out of my ass about this amazing band.

"Do You Remember Walter" isn't particularly special if you look at it on it's own, and although it stands out as one of the better recordings from this period, the tune itself is fairly simple. The thing that struck me was, as nostalgic as the lyrics were, they packed a universal message into something that on the surface seems so personal. With Davies and the Kinks, it's not the specific things that remind us of people that torture us, it's those things added up that make the past so sad and so universal for all of us. Just listen to the song and you might understand.

The first in a series of my top ten favorite artists:

10. The Who.

When I was in high school, there was no better band than the Who. From the middle of my freshman year til the beginning of my senior year, it was all Who, all the time. I was obsessed. I’m sure that my lack of respect for other musicians came from my desire to emulate Pete Townshend, all hate and bile making beautiful music. There are a lot of reasons to like the Who, but when I liked them the most, I couldn’t give you a coherent reason why they are better and more culturally valuable than every other band. Usually my conversations would devolve into “but they’re just SO GOOD, fuck you!” Thank God I’m older now and figured out that writing down stuff is a better way to communicate your unbelievably biased opinion and pass it off as fact. It's also funny that at one time I would have considered them my absolute favorite band, and now I find them to be mostly cute and defiantly adolescent. It's also amusing that my shared passion for the Who with Eddie Vedder did not translate into an equal respect and love for Pearl Jam; at least until recently.

I like to think that in the end, the best thing about the Who is and was their sense of humor. What would look like self-loathing teenage poetry from almost anybody else is, in the pen of Pete Townshend, completely hilarious and totally soul-baring. “I’m a Boy” is most definitely a song about child abuse and a parents hatred of what their child has become. “Squeeze Box” is definitely not a song about a mom who likes to party and play the accordion. The songs display a duality that I always preferred to the straight forward machismo of other “hard-rock” acts like Led Zeppelin. The mark of a great song is always elusive, and almost always about something besides what it claims to be. The Who always delivered in spades. I always thought it ironic that these guys were featured at Woodstock, performing a rock opera that derides the ignorant bliss of a utopia popularized by very hippies they were performing for.

I suppose that the most blatant thing about this band was that they didn’t mind hating people. Townshend did not turn the other cheek, Daltrey was definitely not going sit silently while somebody made fun of him, Entwistle suffered no fools, and Moon didn’t give you time to be boring or trite. These were my hero’s, in music and in life. When the hypocrisy of the world pushed me into a corner, I had the Who right there. I'm sure that this absolution is what insured that my love would dwindle and that the messages of "Baba O'Reilly" and "Won't Get Fooled Again" and Quadrophenia wouldn't last. This was a band that I wanted to like more than I actually did, though ironically, I liked them a lot. It was though they made me feel like I absolutely needed to be sure that there was one true music that I could identify with. Things would change for me, but the Who did not.

Top 20 Albums

Ive been itching to do a little music writing lately, so here are my top 20 albums. My top ten songs will follow. Drop me a line, tell me what you think

1. Born to Run Bruce Springsteen, 1975, Columbia. I first heard this record on a short road trip to Holland, Michigan in the summer of 98. I was told by a friend that I HAD to hear this record, that I would love it: I did. This is what rock n roll is to me. So rarely does something live up to its own hype, and Born to Run does. Im on my fourth CD copy and own two copies on vinyl. It still kills me.

2. Blood and Chocolate Elvis Costello and the Attractions, 1986, Columbia. What can I say about this album that would even begin to explain its importance. Basically this is the ultimate break-up/divorce/suicide album. Listen to it and youll want to be dumped just so you dont feel so guilty that Elvis is sadder than you. But what makes it so good is that it works every time.

3. Being There Wilco, 1996, Reprise. I dont care what anybody says, this is their best album. Two unbelievable discs of the best songs Jeff Tweedy ever wrote.

4. Quadrophenia The Who, 1973, MCA. Eddie Vedder says that this album saved him during high school; I would say ditto. The idea that a young man has several different personalities that rule his actions was a beautifully convenient concept when I was fourteen, and in some ways, it still rings true to me. Of all of the records that Ive ever owned, this is the one that has probably been played more than any other.

5. The Convincer Nick Lowe, 2001,Yep Roc. I sat down to listen to this record for the first time on headphones at a coffee shop one night several years ago. For forty minutes, I barely moved a muscle. I still feel very strong about it. This is timeless music from a timeless artist; the songs seem like they were picked from the air fully formed.

6. Sound of Lies The Jayhawks, 1997, American. This the Jayhawks hidden masterpiece. I actually heard most of these songs in concert before I bought the record but could sing along right away. These are stunning, honest and beautiful compositions from a highly underrated band.

7. #1 Record/Radio City Big Star, 1973, Ardent/Fantasy. The music is so unbelievably good on this double album/CD. This album was first heard as another tape given to me for a road trip, this time to Philly. Its the sort of thing that people who go to Schubas will name drop because they dont know it that well. If youve spent time with it, one really does not need to talk about it, you just make a tape of it so that others might enjoy. This might be my favorite guitar record of all time.

8. The Complete Stax/Volt Singles 1959-1968 Various Artists, 1996, Stax/Fantasy. Carla Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Booker T. and the MGs, Otis Redding, Sam and Dave, Eddie Floyd, Johnnie Taylor, the Mar-Keys, the Bar-Kays, Albert King, the Staples Singers, Isaac Hayes, Mable John, Jean Knight, Ollie and the Nightingales, the Mad Lads, Judy Clay, Jeanne and the Darlings and William Bell. If that list doesnt mean anything to you, then there is no music taht will help you.

9. Emitt Rhodes Emitt Rhodes, 1971, ABC/Dunhill. This is one of those albums that sounds happy on first listen because in so many ways, it is. The more I listen to it, the more it fills me with the kind of sadness so few things can. It sounds like the solo record that McCartney should have made after the Beatles, the McCartney that wrote Yesterday and Maybe Im Amazed. I know that sounds melodramatic, but when a record makes you FEEL so much, you cant help but love it.

10. At War with the Mystics The Flamig Lips, 2006, Warners. The Lips are one of those bands where you shouldnt be allowed to rate anything in their catalogue, their just that good. I really believe that they will be seen in years to come as part of a great rock tradition, alongside the greats; the Who, the Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Aretha, Marvin etc. Try picking the best of any of those people. Anyway, I picked this record because Ive listened to it nonstop since I got it in March. I also feel like the Lips have built each album on everything theyve done before. Since Transmissions from the Satellite Heart, they have not released a bad album, and for that reason, Mystics gets the nod at #10. If they ever release an anthology of all of their albums, that will go in my number one spot-forever.

11. Exile in Guyville Liz Phair, 1993, Matador. This is another one of those cant-begin-to-explain-it records. If you like it, I suppose I would be preaching to the choir, if you dont, well, thats your loss. The two lessons I learned from this record were as follows: 1) I might be an asshole, but if I was honest, it was both of our fault if things went bad. 2) Girls enjoy sex, a lot, but only on their terms; and guys all over the world would live very happy lives if they just agreed to those terms. Oh yeah, and when I was fifteen, I thought Liz Phair was really hot. I still do.

12. 20,000 Streets Under the Sky Marah, 2004, Yep Roc/PHIdelity. These guys should be more famous, but I suspect that peoples aversion to straight up rock and roll has something to do with it. Even people who like Springsteen apologize for him. Of course, we must remember that Garthy Brooksie-Brooks and Shanya the lip-synching Twains remind people that white people in America are bloated, hard-headed, insufferably self-satifying pricks that like rock and roll so I guess it make sense. Back to Marah, these guys dont seem to give a fuck about all of that. Rock and Roll is not dead, and if its in any kind of trouble, theyre gonna save it. I dare you to put on Freedom Park and not smile and wish for a beautiful summer day.

13. The Heat Jesse Malin, 2004, Artemis. This is the record that reminds me that I love the freaks. I like stuff that other people throw away. Jesse Malin writes people that I feel, that I understand. He spins a great melody and line of verse. Like old buildings and whores/Politicians and wars/get respect if they last this long. Anyway, I like it, cause it makes me smile.

14. Live Donny Hathaway, 1971, Atlantic. Out of Print, except as a European import, this was worth every cent of the twenty bucks I spent to get it shipped to me. The real title should be Donny Hathaway and His Band Kick Your Ass-and Theyre Not Even Trying. They cover Jealous Guy by John Lennon, and it just does you in.

15. I am the Cosmos Chris Bell, 1994, Rykodisc. This is THE saddest record ever. This guy breaks your heart at every turn, and I can never look away. This is not an album I would recommend to induce a good cry, but more to induce self loathing and paranoia. Its really good though, I swear!

16. Cold Roses Ryan Adams and The Cardinals, 2005, Lost Highway. Double albums always get treated like theyre special. Excuses are made for the number of songs, the inclusion of filler, the artistic quality sacrificed so the artist could justify their indecision, etc. This is not one of those albums. Ryan Adams has released eight albums in five years, and it would stand to reason that he would eventually put out a double album. I know this because I own everything he has released in that time. I still feel like Cold Roses is the bridge that brings this artists country and rock roots together in one package, and its that marriage of country and rock that mark Adams most touching and immediate work. When I took a road trip to Nashville and Memphis last year, this was the album I played.

17. Let it Be The Replacements, 1983, Twin Tone. Also the title of my favorite Beatle record, this indie rock masterstroke would be mentionable just for Sixteen and Unsatisfied, but the garage-punk beauty of KISSs Black Diamond is unmatched. I like rock music that says fuck you, and the Replacements were kind of the epitome of any music that says fuck you.

18. Saturation Urge Overkill, 1993, DGC. Thinking back to the Summer of 97 meant three things for me: Kathryn Miller, Clerks and Saturation. It contains my favorite song ever, Heaven 90210 and my favorite guitar solo, from Night and Grey. Oh yeah, and it fucking rocks.

19. Pet Sounds Beach Boys, 1966, Capitol. The fourth of July is the best holiday the USA has to offer. Parade. Barbeque. Fireworks. Listen to the best album from the sixties all day. Ive done it every year for seven years.

20. For Once In My Life Stevie Wonder, 1968, Tamla/Motown. This is the album that restored my faith in R&B. Theres not a bad track on the disc, but the bass break in House on the Hill is unbelievable. This is the peak of the Motown house band, the Funk Brothers, and the disc where Stevie starts to write his own material.

So I have a problem. I used to think that Nirvana was an overrated, bloated, over-hyped middling grunge band. Boy was I wrong. I'd like to thin I have good taste, but I 've spent some time listening to Some of the classics, like Nevermind and In Utero, and I finally realized that they were pretty good ablums. It's almost never that popular demand and art collide to make history, but with this band and their "landmark" albums, that very thing took place almost instantly. I suppose I didn't like Nirvana enough to defend them, or even give them a chance, but upon further examination, as with many other "modern classics," I have warmed to the prospect that they are one of the truly great bands. If you want to out me for blatant sarcasm, go ahead.

I know that it's the new thing to make fun of everything that happened yesterday, but when all is said and done, what will you be left with? The industry will keep going and you'll be left with your deluxe copy of Neon Bible and an un-burnable copy of Hail to the Theif. People don't ever, ever ask the question of why we buy music, or want to be on TV, or be the first to be there for something, anything. So the result is that in the name of authenticity and industry, the best are maligned and we get left with nothing but the most mediocre, sickly sweet elevator music. Come on! Do you really like Shainia Twain? Or Sheryl Crow? Apparently you do.

Wow, haven't posted here in a while. It's time for some good old blog posting.

So for the last little bit, I've been trying to resuscitate my past musical enjoyments. There's quite a few bands and albums that I haven't listened to in a while because I thought it was cool to hate music. I think being married has changed a bit of that because, quite frankly, my wife doesn't care about silly "pet" band bullshit. More importantly, my taste has become less defensive and therapeutic and more about music that I just like. I distinctly remember being disgusted with myself for briefly enjoying things like Phish, Bob Marley and Pink Floyd, spitting on myself for such terrible mistakes that nobody but me gave a fuck about. I suppose part of my defensiveness surrounding music was related to my parents fascist approach to raising a teenager that wanted to do something besides watch football and "praise Jesus" on somebody else's dime. I hid copies of "The Who Sell Out" and Yo La Tengo's "Electr-O-Pura" in my backpack for years so that on the off-chance that if my dad decided that they were rotting my spiritual journey, he couldn't throw them away. (Oh yeah, that's not a joke. I spent most of 7th grade trying to be Stan Lee and create my own comic book, and during a particularly evangelical weekend, my parents informed me that they were demonic and had to go.)

So with that said, I've discovered that I've spent the last several years being misguided about a great many things in pop culture, especially my great love, rock music. It's not that I was wrong, or that I'm all right on now, it's just that I've started to listen to my self a little more and what I believe to be the opinion of other people a whole lot less.