Essential Saturday night listening: Whoever is playing on Saturday Night Live. I have a lot of respect for the show, and I understand what a long and difficult process it is to get the opportunity to be the musical guest. It’s a game changer for a band.
Essential Sunday morning listening: I wake up very early, and Nick Drake’s Pink Moon is by far the most played Sunday morning album in my house. I will usually pick up the pace after a couple cups of coffee, but Nick Drake never fails to set the early morning vibe. Songs of Leonard Cohen is also a pretty solid Sunday morning listen.
“Wish I’d written that” song: Easy one, I wish I’d written “Waterloo Sunset” by The Kinks. I never heard it until I saw Jon Brion in a little club in New York on a snowy night in the ‘90s. He did all these cool loops and the crowd sang the harmonies. It was magic. The original song is a standard go-to on any mixtape I put together.
“Wish I could unhear that” song: Cake’s “Going the Distance” annoys me. I feel like they ripped off Stephen Malkmus and made millions. If you like Cake, go buy everything Pavement or Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks ever made, you owe it to them.
First record I bought with my own money: I am pretty sure I bought Styx’s Pieces of Eight, John Lennon’s Double Fantasy and Kiss’ Double Platinum on the same day. I remember coming home from the record store, reading liner notes, and sitting on the floor in the living room. I must have played Styx’s “Renegade” 20 times that day.
My latest online discovery: The power off button!
Artist more people should know about: I love this young kid from Shreveport, Dylan LeBlanc. His record Cautionary Tale is so good. There isn’t a bad track on the album. It is one of the few CDs sent to me at the Ivywild that made it into steady rotation at home and in my car.
Guilty pleasure: Psychedelic Furs, the Mirror Moves record. I don’t know what it is about the Butler brothers, but their synthy pop songs are like a bag of chips, can’t just listen once. So good. I saw them at The Greek Theatre in Berkeley in ‘85 with The Cure; the taste of cloves, making out, and warm white wine on a hot California night are forever imprinted.