Track 15: The White Stripes – The Hardest Button To Button
Watching this video, which uses stop-motion to make Meg
White play an endless line of drums – a new one appears after every beat – I
started to wonder what had happened to Meg once the band broke up and Jack
ploughed on with his solo career.
Remember how back in the day, there was a big mystery over
whether Meg and Jack were brother and sister or husband and wife? I’m not sure
they’d be able to maintain that level of mystique in this day and age. It
finally transpired they had been married in the early days of the band’s
career, but divorced before their breakthrough in 2001, staying together for
the music. Jack’s only called White because he took Meg’s surname when they
married… his real name is Jack Gillis. (Neither Louise or I changed our names when we tied the knot last week, in case you were wondering.)
The White Stripes broke up in 2011, not through any major disagreement, but purely to preserve their legacy… and maybe because Meg had had enough. She hated the limelight, was always a very shy person, and suffered from both acute anxiety and low self-esteem. It’s a miracle she was able to get up on stage for as long as she did, and I hope she’s found some peace and prefers her life as it is now. It’s kind of incredible that she’s considered one of the best drummers of her era, yet she only learned to play when she first met Jack in 1997.
Track 16: Billy Joel - You May Be Right
This would normally be the point where I get all defensive
and start trying to justify my love of Billy Joel… but sod it, if I’m not bored
with all that by now. Listen without prejudice, as I’m trying to teach my son
to do, or be damned. I ain’t changing my position.
You May Be Right was a Top Ten hit in the US and Canada but
didn’t chart at all in the UK. It’s from the 1980 album Glass Houses, and the
single that everyone remembers from that one is It's Still Rock and Roll to Me, but
there’s plenty more great songs. I’m not sure when my Billy Joel obsession
began, but I bought all his albums on CD (though I’m pretty sure I had Storm
Front and Greatest Hits on vinyl, so that suggests it was 88/89, probably not
long before I got my first CD player).
I’m part-way through watching a Billy Joel documentary that
came out recently, and it’s refreshing to see so many people discuss his work
with respect. Almost makes me feel justified. Then I checked out a couple of
the sniffy reviews for Glass Houses that are referenced on iffypedia, and I
could feel my hackles starting to rise again. The Rolling Stone critic at the
time remarked, “Billy Joel writes smooth and cunning melodies, and what many of
his defenders say is true: his material's catchy. But then, so's the flu.” Way
to turn a positive into a negative, you dick. Meanwhile, self-confessed muso-snob Robert
Thomas Christgau bleats, “it's all rock and roll to [Billy], but to me it's
closer to what pop meant before ironists and aesthetes, including yours truly,
appropriated the term. Closer than any skinny-tie bands, that's for sure:
gregarious, shameless, and above all profitable. Of course, if it doesn't make
up in reach what it lacks in edge, ironists and aesthetes needn't notice it's
there.” Careful there, Bobby, you almost said something nice, but I think you
managed to pull it back at the end by reminding us that you’re above this sort
of thing, so we probably should be too. God, I hate music critics. Or, to quote
Billy himself…
You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for
Track 17: The Fountains Of Wayne - It Must Be Summer
Another artist that fills me with unashamed joy whenever I
hear them, New York power-pop heroes The Fountains of Wayne, named after a
garden furniture store in New Jersey that sadly closed in 2009…
That joy is tempered with sadness though, since half the
band’s driving creative force, Adam Schlesinger, died of COVID-related
unhappiness a few years back.
It Must Be Summer is taken from the band’s second album,
Utopia Parkway from 1999. It’s the perfect summer anthem – sunshine mixed with
sadness – and if it’s a little power-pop-by-numbers in the tune department,
well, we can forgive that because power pop is ace.
Oh, and remember what I was saying about music critics? I only hate them if I disagree with them. Here’s a quote from the Entertainment Weekly review of 1999: “Oasis would give up a week's worth of pints for any one of these pop hooks, though they'd never manage the humour or warmth.” That’ll do, pig.
Track 18: John Lee Hooker - Boom
Boom
I probably don't need to tell you anything about Boom Boom, other than it was written after something a bartender kept saying to John Lee Hooker when he was consistently late for a gig.
Being a child of the 70s/80s, my first thought whenever I hear this is... of course... Basil Brush. Boom Boom, Mr. Rodney / Mr. Derek / Mr. Roy / Mr. Howard / Mr. Billy*.
(*Delete as appropriate, depending on your age.)
