The Beautiful Decay-Skyzoo
Skyzoo – Friday – Scoot Inn

Playa Way-8Ball & MJG
8Ball & MJG – Thursday – Barbarella

Symphonies-Dan Black
Dan Black – Thursday, Friday – Dirty Dog/Emo’s

Just Ain't Gonna Work Out-Mayer Hawthorne
Mayer Hawthorne – Friday, Saturday – AMH, Mohawk

O, Dana
Big Star – Saturday – Antones

Sixes and Sevens-Lucero
Lucero – Friday – Red Eyed Fly

Get Up Jake-Deadstring Brothers
Deadstring Brothers – Friday – Continental Club

Triggers and Trash Heaps-Centro-matic
Centro-matic – Thursday – Emo’s

Robots-Dan Mangan
Dan Mangan – Thursday – Central Pres. Church

When You Call My Name-Dawes
Dawes – Weds – Club De Ville

House Built For Two-Delta Spirit
Delta Spirit – Thursday – Emo’s

Big Country-Ha Ha Tonka
Ha Ha Tonka – Saturday – Red Eyed Fly

She Left Me For Jesus-Hayes Carll
Hayes Carll – Thursday – Antone’s

Above The Sun-Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson
Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson – Thursday – Maggie Mae’s Gibson Room

Suffused With Love-Sondre Lerche
Sondre Lerche – Thursday – Day Stage

Strangers-The Dutchess and The Duke
The Dutchess and the Duke – Thursday – The Galaxy Room

Why Don't They Let Us Fall In Love-The Morning Benders
The Morning Benders – Weds – Emo’s Jr

VCR-The xx
The xx – Thursday – Mohawk

An Almighty Thud-We Were Promised Jetpacks
We Were Promised Jetpacks – Wednesday – Parrish

Be Less Rude-Frightened Rabbit
Frightened Rabbit – Thursday – Parrish

Euro-trash Girl-Cracker
Cracker – Thursday, Friday – Encore Patio/Aud. Shores

not even 8 blades can cut away the shame

Right off the bat I gotta say all the criticism of the press conference itself, who was invited, why he didn’t answer questions, etc., is preposterous. Is there some sort of post coitus press conference code I don’t know about that he was supposed to adhere to? These freakin’ writers, “If I had cheated on my wife with 22 women over the course of 5 years, I would have done my press conference this way…” Please, shut your mouth.

Now, my thoughts on his words summarized: “Bull Shit”.

The “Forgive me, I am a _____ addict” card is so over played. Was his behavior despicable? Certainly. Were these women trashy? Absolutely. Was he ever driving around seedy Cuban neighborhoods picking up hookers 15 at a time and banging them behind dumpsters? No. He was carrying on relationships cross country in a premeditated manner. Everything Tiger did was planned and constructed. He’s a sleaze, no doubt, but an addict i think not.

Taking a lesson from that great volume of American morality: thurgood (NSFW-audio)

I mean what’s the craziest thing Tiger did? Got a hotel room in a 3 star hotel as opposed to 4 star in order to cut down on the amount of paparazzo around? Sorry, not going to cut it. But of course, if you are celebrity, and you do something wrong, you must say you were predisposed to committing said atrocities. This accomplishes 2 things: 1. It makes you seem like you have some sort of medical condition, and giving you shit would be like giving someone with lung cancer grief, even though they’ve been smoking for 75+ years. 2. More importantly, it sets a prescribed routine to go through to be “clean”. Oh, it’s ok, he’s going to go through that car wash rehab center and come out squeaky fresh. Man, celebrity rehab centers, what a good racket that is. Doubting some one after they do time at rehab is taboo, like doubting some one’s toughness after they served a few duties on the front lines of war.

“I think that fool is still a fiend for the stripper ‘tang”

“YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH! DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE HAS BEEN THROUGH???? A REHAB CENTER-IN MISSISSIPPI!!!! ONLY SOME OF THE MOVIE CHANNELS, AND NO PLAYBOY CHANNEL. YOU HEAR ME? NO PLAYBOY. YOU SIR, SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF.”

So yea, this all a bunch of crap. While i believe that Tiger is sincerely upset, he’s no addict, and he needs to realize that the only thing that any one, including himself, really cares about is that he goes out and wins tournaments. As I said in my previous post about the man, the second richest athlete ever, MJ, was a notorious cheater. It didn’t matter because he kept his private life private, put on the ballinest suits ever and never stopped winning.

Half time. Dolph does ______

Random thoughts:

-I just realized every running route I’ve ever done regularly has been counter clockwise. Shoot, even when I’m in a new place, on vacation or something, and I only have a small understanding of the area, I begin my journey by heading towards the rightmost extent of my mental map and making a swath back across until I reach the leftmost extent before returning. I find this most disturbing. How did this happen? I didn’t even run track (My physical development resembled that of a chubby baby deer until the age of 19). How many things do I unknowingly do this consistently. Have I been putting on my right sock first every day for my whole life???? AHHHH!

-None of my facebook friends prayed for (advertised praying for) Chileans…

-UT Basketball continues to wow with their impotence. Has any team ever been #1 so late (Jan. 18), only to be unranked by tournament time? They are somehow still #25, but will surely blow it against Baylor this Saturday, and won’t win more than 1 game in the conference tournament. Rick Barnes is terrible. Think about this way: When UT was winning, it was winning with intangibles; great rebounding both directions, incredibly high-energy-defense, and a mean transition game. When conference games arrived and it was time to run half court sets, you know “offense”, things one might learn in “practice”, well, we were fucked. Damien James is usually the best player on the court and one of the most lethal players in the country when he receives the ball in the 10-18 foot range. We are talking about a lottery pick here. Watch a game. How often  does he receive the ball inside the arc? How often does our offense set screens for him without the ball? With the ball? UT has had NBA caliber players the past 8 years. It’s time to stop this middle school offense (kick the ball in the post, hope the entire defense collapses, nobody move) we are running and run something one might learn from watching real film. Barnes did a great job getting UT ball on its feet. He talked TJ Ford into staying in state, brainstormed ways to get more students to the games, but he has proven he can’t coach.

-Many huge establishments made up of and supported by the most conservative individuals in our society are socialist entities. The most blatant example: The military, which gets more money from the taxpayers than any other branch of the government (after discretionary spending is factored in). It is made up of people who claim to hate and fear socialism, and is wholeheartedly supported by those who stake that claim with even greater ferocity. I support our military as well (love you Guz and Koller), but I am not in denial of what it is or where the money comes from. Even religion, the driving force of the most socially conservative movements around, is supported by people who show up and tithe (aka God tax). If God were a true conservative, He’d get out there and earn his own living, not come begging for my hard earned dollar each week. SHOW SOME INITIATIVE GOD. IT’S THE AMERICAN WAY! All of this occurred to me when I was discussing the views of the people in my new office with my carpool partner/boss. I love my new job, but if most of the people here had their way, there wouldn’t be so many gosh dern taxes, and republicans would fill every seat. BTW, I work for the City of Austin in the Parks Planning department. So if most of my coworkers had their way, they’d be unemployed. AHHHHH!!!!

While we are on the subject of not making sense…watch the whole thing, the last minute makes it worth it 1,000,000x.

Let'em have it, Johnny

In quasi-honor of this, I’ve concocted some posts that revolve around particular global locales. The first of the bunch, as you might have guessed, is Vietnam. And I promise, I ain’t gonna post a bunch of folky protest songs. Read on and see for yourself.

This first track is by my fellow Arkansan, Johnny Cash.  Titled, “Talking Vietnam Blues,” it’s the closest to being construed as a “protest” song.  It’s an easy, ramblin’ tune that speaks out against aggression and violence, not from a point of piety, but one of a calm passivity.  If one person could toss aside the supposed screen of war as a prideful and glorious expression of masculinity, it’d be Mr. Cash.

While Cash relayed the story of Americans in Vietnam from his own perspective as a performer, Jimmy Cliff takes a more nuanced position in “Vietnam.” While both music and chorus are quite catchy, the song is rather morbid. Around his countless intonations of “Viet-nam,” Cliff relates two short anecdotes relating to a solider in Vietnam. The first is from the perspective of a friend who has received a letter from his pal telling him to make sure he lets everyone know that he’s coming home. The second verse is a telegram received by his mother informing her of his death. When I listen to the track, however, I never seem to realize this. I just bob my head and sing along to the chorus.

Steve Earle is an American institution. He’s had his ups and downs musically. He suffered through addiction and recovery, bouncing back to create stunning music (The Mountain, et al). Then, as George Bush’s reign in office took shape, we all suffered through his endless political haranguing. “Copperhead Road” ranks as one of the greatest songs he has recorded.

The majority of the song deals with runnin’ ’shine in Tennessee, but its most pointed (and astute) moment comes with the specter of the Vietnam War. John Lee Pettimore kicks off the final verse with this pronouncement:

“I volunteered for the Army on my birthday
They draft the white trash first,’round here anyway”

True, unflinching, and incisive…It’s Earle at his best.

This first song is so desperate.  Jim James unique voice is perfectly suited for this sort of vulnerability.  One wonders if he might just fall apart right in the middle of the song as he details all these things he possesses.   The comparison is a bit strange, but it reminds me every so slightly of “Try A Little Tenderness,” with its soft approach giving way to a crescendo of emotion and instrumentation.  In the midst of this, James lays his apology at your feet.

Junior Kimbrough is one of my favorite blues musicians of all time.  I’ve said this before, I know.  But it truly bears repeating…the man is amazing.  The emotion of the simple words are perfectly punctuated by the music. When you hear him claim that he “cried last night,” Junior sounds like a man that has lived and you believe him. You believe that heartache, you can feel it deep within your chest when the deep thwang of his guitar rolls over the words.

This is one of those pop confections that are always loved.  Short of being overplayed, they never fail to put a smile on one’s face.  “I’ll Kill Her” by Soko is misleadingly poppy.

There are three striking things about this song: 1) Her accent.  Adorable and infectious, it is simply wonderful. 2) Her calmness.  The relation of events is so calm that it’s endearing.  One could be forgiven for pitying this poor girl and the turn of events that have befallen her…but underneath it, the calm delivery is rather disturbing for its lack of emotion.  3) The detail.  The universe Soko creates is picture perfect.  And this adds to the tragicomic nature of the whole song.  Sure, it’s funny and cute…but it is devastatingly emotional at its core.

Le baiser de l'hôtel de ville-Robert Doisneau

The material will be in the same vein as last week too, i.e. each song is amorous in nature as a commemoration to the Valentine Holiday.

Decided to start things off with a bit of a left field selection, Carla Bruni’s “Le Plus Beau du Quartier.”  The celebrity and status Bruni experiences in Europe is rather humorous when viewed in contrast to the stark indifference of America.  With that said, there is no figure that quite epitomizes the pursuit of love quite like Bruni (her quick and scandalous dalliances w/Sarkozy and their eventual marriage seemed to appear out of a trashy romance novel and not reality).  When seen in retrospect, it is quite remarkable that she put out such a wonderful little album like Quelqu’un m’a dit.

This first track is probably recognizable to many due to its appearance in 500 Days of Summer.  For those that aren’t so up to date on their French, it’s a song sung from the perspective of a rather narcissistic man, who finds himself to be the most beautiful person around.  It is full of wonderful and sexy innuendo, perfectly illustrating the lustful and desirous nature of human attraction.

There’s nothing quite like an Allen Toussaint horn arrangement.  The man is a master, creating the signature sound behind countless tracks.  He was also a great performer in his own right and the next track, “My Baby Is The Real Thing,” is a great showcase for both sides of that coin.  The song is a beautiful defense of his love and backed by great arrangements.  To me, it epitomizes the infectious simplicity love can reach.

The Avett Brothers are one of my favorite groups.  They create such heartfelt and honest music.  Somehow, they manage t0 illustrate the various caprices of life and love with seeming ease.    Despite their relative youthfulness, their songs seem to spring from a depth of experience.

Life is ever changing but I will always
find a constant and comfort in your love
With your heart my soul is bound
And as we dance I know that heaven can be found

The Kiss-Alfred Eisenstaedt

It is based more on myth and embellishment than actual knowledge. Of course, I’m not the first to point this out. And I don’t say this to be sour. I am merely noting that the holiday is an utter creation. However, since it is such a widespread celebration these days, I’m putting away my own (small) personal qualms to lay out a list of wonderful love songs. Pour the champagne and cuddle up to your man.

Nothing says love like the Queen of Soul.  It’s paradoxical, but seminal artists like Aretha are often overlooked.  They exist as the purveyors of these cross-cultural hits that everyone knows.  The amazing depth and breadth of their body of work is shrouded by their status as an icon or star.  For too long, Aretha existed this way in my world.  I knew her tangentially at best.  Over the past few years, this has thankfully changed.  And there is no better way to kick off a V-day post than with her great song from 1967, “Baby I Love You.”

Aretha tries to entice.  She tells the boy to just stretch out his arms if he really wants her and she’ll bestow her love. “If She Wants Me,” by Belle & Sebastian, could very well exist as an amorous parallel to Aretha’s track.  In the chorus it’s that boy, full of uncertainty about whether that girl does want him.

But it is very much larger than that too.  The boy in question seems to have run off in pursuit of something larger than himself.  He quests for some level of perfection, but in the same breath is seemingly ready to reject that quest in favor of being with his love.  That is, if she wants him.   It’s a beautiful thought.

Nothing, however, gets more beautiful than a life spent together.  Which, while morbid as it may be, is the seeming aspiration of love, to become so carefully entwined with another person that the sharing of experiences passes from days to months and on through the years until one’s time on earth is eclipsed.  Whether that is the truth behind this next track is anyone’s guess, but I have long believed it to be so.  Even after all these years, the resonance of the track continues to affect me deeply.

Aboot a year ago I wrote some musings about time travel and its implications here.

I like what I wrote there, and I stand by it, as much as it is possible to stand by such nonsense. Last night during Outstanding Vessel XLIV  some friends and I had a funny thought:  The only group who have yet to harness the power of time travel is the NFL. It guards this secret closely and uses it only for the judging of too-close-to-call plays.

How I imagine this would work is thus:  Close play occurs, refs talk it over. if the play is under review, the head ref goes to his enclosed “camera booth” and pinpoints the location to have been standing to know definitively the outcome of the play. Once the location is determined, he is transported back in time to that exact spot, and carefully re-witnesses the play. Upon its conclusion he is automatically transported back to the booth in live time and emerges with the correct call. Everybody back home is happy.

However, the dimension that he just visited is immediately thrust into chaos. Millions of Americans who just witnessed a man appear and disappear on the football field are questioning their existence and calling their congressperson. In order to protect their secret, the NFL installed self destruct mechanisms on not only the time travel equipment but within everyone who knows about the system. Tiny capsules attached to the aortas of the ceos and all the referees of the league release a toxin that administers death immediately, painlessly, and in a manner that will resemble the heart attack that they were all slated to perish from anyways. The time travel equipment explodes in fiery booms of plutonium and flux capacitance.  The world, or should i say, A world is thrust into a disastrous spiral, likely ending in cannibalism and bad attitudes.

But at least we got the call right.

Dylan album cover (photo by the incomprable Bruce Davidson)

Though I’ve had my own personal struggles with the music from time to time, but there is just so much wealth within it that I always return.  It’s no secret that I’ve been stuck on covers recently, so I decided to give the kid from Duluth the treatment.  It’s pretty easy to find great Dylan covers (just check out the soundtrack for I’m Not There, it’s fantastic) so I tried to stay out in left field with these.

During his time working on the music for Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (great film, by the way), Dylan wrote an improvised song titled, “Rock Me Mama.”  While it isn’t exactly a strict cover, it gained a large bit of fame as a fleshed out song called “Wagon Wheel” by One Crow Medicine Show.  And though I like that particular track, I promised to be a bit out in left-field on these, so I must go with Jason Webley & Reverend Peyton’s own version of that impromptu ditty, “Rock Me Mama.”

It is undoubtedly a simple song, but I like it quite a bit more than the glossy “co-write” produced by OCMS.  It’s much more representative of the loosely weary original.

Andrew Bird’s rendition of “Oh Sister” is one of the most arresting Dylan covers.  I suppose it’s the stark combination of whistling and strings, but it immediately catches one’s attention (Oddly enough, I first heard the track on an odd French compilation album titled “Les inrockuptibles présentent Bob Dylan Revisited”).

Though I’ve listened to the song lyrics upwards of 30 times, I still have yet to form a definite opinion on the material.  Co-written with Jacques Levy, it seems to precede or forebode the impending Christian phase with its invocation of God to woo a woman.  Despite this understanding, I still find it to be an elusive track.

Are you ready to smile? The next track is curious and rollicking little gem that always puts a grin on my chin.  The track is a cover version of “If You Gotta Go, Go Now,” by the English folk band, Fairport Convention…except it’s in French.  There’s a lot of twists, try to keep up and keep grinning. Enjoy your Wednesday.

In honor of my final day of work here in New Braunfels, a poem:

Your townies are sad

Your fake German culture is ‘wurst

Schlitterbahn sucks brat’

Forgive me if I forget to notice passing exits 184-187 for the rest of my life.

Mixtape

I made a “Best of” mixtape for the year ending 2009! You should download it and listen to it while you read about a whole bunch of depressing shit below…..or just download it and listen to it.

I’d be lying if I said I stayed hip to all these songs as they were released. I basically downloaded the best of lists from several prominent blogs, and filtered out what I enjoyed the most until I cracked the soon to be trivial 80 minute mark. YOU SEE WHAT I DO FOR YOU?

I thought it needed color....

The Wire

I finished watching the final episode of the Wire last night at 2:30am. Like Peter, I can say with confidence that it is the best show I’ve ever seen.

In the criminal justice system, television shows are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the shit, which is all over every channel; and the good stuff,  of which there is very little and usually reserved for HBO.  The Wire is one of these latter stories.

US Politics

The past 2 years, I have taken it upon myself to become a grown up and really get to know the issues and what we are doing about them. Worst fucking idea I’ve ever had. In this case, without a doubt, ignorance is bliss.

Every republican has fought tooth and nail to oppose just about everything (the healthcare bill being the big one) Obama proposes and puts towards congress. Obama attempts compromise and working with both parties. Now at the year anniversary of Obama’s tenure in office, all the conservative mouth pieces say things like, “compromises too easily” and “is a failure for not getting the health care bill through”. Say what? You won’t unlock the door, and your dogging the guy for knocking? Eat shit and die. And for Fox News where every one says, “He really hasn’t done anything in the last year” or “He lied on every promise” Just because you don’t report it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Check it. Wow, that’s a lot of promises kept and compromises, and this from a generally conservative newspaper! Also, ask yourself how many of the “Stalled” and “Promise Broken” are due to direct republican opposition (ie. the health care bill) and reversal of plans due to the recovery plan (ie. anything with the words “wall street”), respectively.

Also, quick note to Scott Brown (who drives a truck, and was also elected to fill the seat left by Ted Kennedy): The reason a lot of your new constituents don’t want universal health care for the whole country is because every jackass in the state of Massachusetts already has universal health care, but thanks for thinking about the rest of us Massholes! That’s right, Massachusetts provides its citizens with Health Care. What a novel idea!

Haiti and Paul Shirley

Sad, sad stuff. As usual the Big Picture brings it right to your face. 1, 2, 3, 4.

Now the days after this happened my facebook was blowing up with stuff about Haiti, most of it being stuff like: “Praying so hard for Haiti right now” “Haiti needs our prayers y’all”. I find statements like this frustrating.

So there’s God, and he knows Haiti is about to get ripped up. Is He sitting there with his hand on the cancel button waiting for some prayers to come through? “Well ok, no prayers for Haiti today, guess they gonna die”. But afterwards all the prayers come, and God’s like, “Whoa whoa, my bad, it’s aight tho, I’m hella merciful, I’ll go ahead and keep that death toll down to a paltry 200,000. You guys shoulda prayed yesterday, I woulda just fucked up Jakarta instead.”

Also, why do people feel the need to post that? Are they letting God know that they are praying. IS GOD ON FACEBOOK? I think the more likely reason is people are trying to project an image of being a thoughtful and caring person. We are all real impressed.

What kind of God would operate this way? Is He really basing his decisions upon the prayers of wealthy white people 1000s of miles away, completely irrelevant to the problem (that He knew was going to happen)? “Well the cries of that poor woman with the house collapsed on her torso were touching, but the prayers over at MegaChurchalot 9 in Highland Park really pushed me over the edge, I’ll allow 15 more mothers to survive. These old people can have some crackers too.”

Or how about this one? “My dad and I are going down there as soon as we can”. Oh yea, that’s what they need. A couple of chunky suburbanites slathering on sun screen and getting tetanus shots every 2 days. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO FATTY? INSTALL A SEWER SYSTEM FOR THE CITY OF PORT AU PRINCE? No you can’t do that, but I bet you can take 1,000 pictures of yourself smiling with starving infants.

Ok, so now that you and God hate me, let’s find someone we can all hate together.  Paul Shirley. At one time my friend Kiran and I really liked this guy. He was a perpetual 14th-15th man in the NBA who blogged about life on the road with the best players in the world. Even though we were not much closer to his skill level and physical gifts than to LeBron’s, his forced humility and easy writing style made him accessible for guys like us.

His accessibility began to wane as soon as he gave up on the NBA. I guess he had nothing better to do than whine about music, and he did so endlessly. Mostly on the topic of Beatles or Radiohead vs. Oasis. Basically he would gobble-gallagher-gonads. Never trust anyone who thinks Oasis is better than the Beatles. You are allowed to be just skeptical of those who prefer them to Radiohead, but keep a watchful eye. Also, the guy gave a recap of his ACL experience this past year, and went to bed alone with no friends at 11pm on his first ever visit to Austin. Really? No desire whatsoever to go out and meet the 500k young people dropped in here? You made $750k a year for like 6 years! You can rule these streets!

So I was pretty much done with him after all that….then he wrote this.

Dear Haitians –

First of all, kudos on developing the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Your commitment to human rights, infrastructure, and birth control should be applauded.

As we prepare to assist you in this difficult time, a polite request: If it’s possible, could you not re-build your island home in the image of its predecessor? Could you not resort to the creation offlimsy shanty- and shack-towns? And could some of you maybe use a condom once in a while?

Sincerely,

The Rest of the World

Wow. What a piece of garbage. It’s like he has no grasp of history.

20 years ago, did all the people in the world sit down to play a game called “Earth”, and all the Haitians were like, “Let’s go here and make it real shitty!!”???? No ass hammer, that is not what happened.

The reason why it’s our responsibility, Paul Shirley, is because WE made them this way. Our forefathers, in the process of making our country real rich and awesome (which you had nothing to do with) started a slave trade and dumped tons of poor captured Africans in the middle of a foreign sea. Then when colonialism was waning, the slaves killed nearly all the white people, because well, wouldn’t you? Then somehow through some twisted diplomacy, the French convinced the Haitians to give them all their money. Then the United States (yes, your bad ass USA, with its building codes, indoor plumbing and prophylactics) took over before WW1 because we were afraid the Germans would camp out there. We actually did a decent job until our irrational fear of communism (see: Iraq, Vietnam, Afghanistan, etc.) caused us to support some terrible homicidal maniacs to run the place. They haven’t recovered since.

Paul Shirley, I hope you get stuck in an elevator and starve to death while a maddening recorder and bongo version of “Hey Jude” is stuck on repeat in the elevator’s muzak system.

WSM?

I’m sure this is exactly the serious crap our buddy Brian is looking to get advertised in….but WhoShotMamba? is almost over, and I haven’t posted a link in a while. Here are the two most recent chapters:

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 – the SportsCentury feel this one has cracks me up

Those Irish eyes are smilin, Jay...

It is estimated that two in five Irish born people were living abroad. This massive migration of souls created a lasting societal impact in Ireland as well as here in America. A large piece of that impact is the musical legacy left behind by these millions of traveling souls.

Though it was indeed penned by an Englishman, Danny Boy is the quintessential Irish ballad.  The beauty of the words have long made it a favorite of mine as well.  Johnny Cash tried his hand at it on the 2002 album, American IV: The Man Comes Around.  While his version of Hurt garnered deserved praise, I have a soft spot in my heart for his take on Danny Boy.

His weathered and torn voice gives the ballad an added depth and poignancy.  And though it came to symbolize the Irish diaspora, the song is a powerful memento of love and longing for all those away from home, no matter where that home may be.

My love for The Band and a certain Belfast Cowboy is worn proudly on my sleeve.  During The Last Waltz concert, Richard Manuel joined up with the man who can’t be mentioned here (silly copyright laws) for a rousing rendition of Tura-Lura Lural (That’s An Irish Lullaby).  Rarely has such a powerful duet been captured on tape.

Much like Danny Boy, this Irish Lullaby is about the inescapable passing of time.  The singer looks back fondly on his mother singing him to sleep with her Irish lullaby.  Hearing that voice come crashing in around the 1:12 mark is one of my favorite things ever recorded.  The duality of his vocal power and grace leaves me in awe every time as he swoops in, singing “Well it’s often, it’s often in dreams I wander…right back, back to that cottage again.”

Set in Baltimore (a once heavily Irish city), The Wire is my favorite show of all time. When a cop dies on The Wire, his fellow officers hold a booze fueled wake at a bar.  The fallen officer is laid out on a table and as booze is consumed, the officer is eulogized (usually by the golden throated Jay Landsman).  As the eulogy comes to a close, they “play the damned song” and, shots in hand, sing along with it.

It’s a hard thing to explain unless you’ve see it, but there is more humanity and companionship in these innocuous barroom wake scenes than most dramas can create in a full season. They are a testament to the quality and craftsmanship of The Wire.

The song in question is by The Pogues, who with their mixed Irish/English background, are a sort of modern manifestation of that Irish Diaspora. This particular track seems to be a sort of flip side to the previous songs that longed for the past. The Body of An American is much more forward thinking, as the subject, though a war casualty who left behind his love, fully embraces his status as a “free born man of the USA.”  It’s one helluva barroom song, Irish or not.