"NEW YORK CITY COPS" THE STROKES (2001)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

Timing is everything, isn’t it? When 9/11 happened, everyone remembers everything changing. But if you’re a New Yorker, you can amplify that sense ten-fold. For months on end, New Yorkers were different. Kinder. More human. We were in it together. Anyone who lived in NYC at the time can attest to this. It’s why an up-and-coming band scouring Lower Eastside bars and venues decided to remove “New York City Cops” from their groundbreaking debut album U.S. release. It was just the right thing to do.

“New York City Cops” doesn’t put officers in the best light to say the least. In the chorus, Casablancas espouses, “New York City cops, but they ain’t too smart”. It’s a great song, but it was just bad timing because the cops, firefighters and first-responders were mega heroes in our eyes at the time. The song has taken on a life of its own as part of the double a-side single “Hard To Explain / New York City Cops”. Decades later, it’s hands down one of the great, early Strokes anthems that seems almost better for not being on the debut album.

“I got to come clean but the authorities they've seen Darling, I'm somewhere in between.”

"SYNCHRONICITY II" THE POLICE (1983)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

As a member of The Police, Sting was many things. A captivating frontman. An underrated bassist. And a sharp, witty lyricist. His lyrics were like poetry one moment, prose in another. And the words he used in “Synchronicity II” are some of the most memorable lyrics in rock history. They have the power to make you laugh just as they’re able to keep you settled in awe. It was always all about the words.

“Synchronicity II” is a rock song. And it’s not a rock song. It’s written and performed as if it came from an opera composer. Sting, Summers and Copeland were always intelligent rockers, but they made something here that elevated new wave, post punk and all the other labels that we wanted to attach to them. “Synchronicity II” cannot be categorized. It can just be appreciated for what it is. A brilliant commentary on a bleak, mundane suburbia with a sound we’d never heard before.

“The secretaries pout and preen like cheap tarts in a red light street.”

"SINKING" THE CURE (1985)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

I count The Head On The Door among my top five favorite Cure albums. This was the record that brought me into the fold. True, it is known for being one of the more accessible recordings from their catalog. It’s poppier for sure. And often times, fans will recommend that new enthusiasts start with this album first, then branch out to the less accessible stuff. But the thing is, The Head On The Door tends to get written off as a one-dimensional pop fest. The final proof that this is preposterous is the last track, “Sinking”. It might be my favorite closer of all time, from any band.

That sinking feeling is captured so perfectly and profoundly on the track. In true Cure fashion, the instruments take on a life of their own, personifying human emotions so beautifully. The guitar harmonics and tragic synth interludes seem to drag each other down into the mire. Smith doesn’t sling a ton of lyrics around on this one. But every word counts. Every word has a nearly unbearable weight attached to it. Gallup’s bass line mopes around, pacing back and forth in its misery. “Sinking” might seem more at home on a record like Disintegration, but as the final track on The Head On The Door, it’s a reminder that The Cure, as always, is in touch with every emotion.

“IF ONLY I COULD REMEMBER ANYTHING AT ALL.”

"DISINTEGRATION" THE CURE (1989)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

Disintegration might be my favorite album of all time. There’s not a single second of filler on it. While my order of favorite tracks may have shifted over the years, one song has always stayed #1: the title track. It’s not only the magnum opus of the album and my favorite song from the band, it’s the quintessential Cure track – both as a produced piece and as a frequent inclusion on Cure concert set lists.

The song opens with the sound of glass shattering, and then immediately hands the duties of keeping the mood alive over to Gallup, who delivers one of his more memorable bass lines. Guitars and keys are given their time to marinate. On “Disintegration”, they’re cascading along a never-ending downward spiral, becoming a microcosm of the entire album that keeps descending further and further into the abyss. Robert’s vocals finally enter the picture at the 1:34 mark. But in the live setting, it’s the critical piece. It’s the element that makes “Disintegration” feel truly immersive. On Disintegration’s title track, we are not passive participants. We are part of the story.

“Songs about happiness murmured in dreams
And we both of us knew how the end always is.”

"PEEK-A-BOO" SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES (1988)

The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.

Year: 1988

It takes a special kind of band to continually push boundaries, venturing beyond one’s comfort zone but simultaneously staying true to one’s essence. Siouxsie & The Banshees belongs in this prestigious category. Album to album, they have a history of folding in new genres into their post punk foundation. Even at their highest commercial success – the single “Kiss Them For Me” – they still stayed true to their essence. And one of the greatest examples of the band’s innovative side is “Peek-A-Boo”.

“Peek-A-Boo” sounds like one part circus, one part torture chamber, two parts industrial factory. Siouxsie sings with a highly unusual delivery, and every musical element – the accordion, the keys, and the drums – contributes greatly to the celebration of industrial noise. Gone are the guitar hooks. And even Severin’s bass is barely detectable on the track, aside from a few revs here and there. The track belongs to Siouxsie and Budgie, whose drums provide all the hooks you need.

“Peepshow, creepshow, Where did you get those eyes?”

'LOST IN THE SUPERMARKET" THE CLASH (1979)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Many of the most legendary recordings in music got their legendary status from the strength of their cohesive sound. The ability to make the whole and the individual parts work equally well is no easy feat. Well, that isn’t London Calling. As legendary as it is, the album veers into various rabbit holes, exploring multiple sounds and genres. It’s a true mish-mosh. It’s exceptional, but it’s still a mish-mosh. Eight tracks in, we come up on a song that doesn’t even sound anything like The Clash. It’s the beautifully addictive “Lost in the Supermarket”.

What’s going on here? Is that a disco rhythm we hear? This isn’t the anti-establishment, Brit punk outfit we know and love. Instead, “Lost in the Supermarket” showcases a band that’s going beyond its comfort zone, stretching itself musically. My favorite track off London Calling, Track 8 is a wry commentary on suburban alienation. The lyrics and the way that they are sung are unforgettable. It may not sound anything like a punk rock song, but therein lies its punk rock essence. The refusal to simply follow suit.

“I'm all lost in the supermarket. I can no longer shop happily. I came in here for that special offer. A guaranteed personality.”

"THE UPSTAIRS ROOM" THE CURE (1983)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

A significant departure from Pornography, the 12-inch release of “The Walk” seemed to have a pep in its step. It was like a 180 degree turn toward a poppier, catchier agenda. While “The Walk” was one of those early classic Cure singles that brought me into the fold, the b-side gem “The Upstairs Room” is actually my favorite track from the single release. Despite the departure of Simon Gallup, one of my favorite bass players of all time, the band found a way to move forward and do some interesting things musically.

“The Upstairs Room” has a few subtle, unexpected tendencies, starting with its abrupt beginning. It’s a song that seems to waste no time getting ramped up with Tolhurst’s dreamy, layered synth hooks that feel like a lullaby. Then Robert’s signature guitar riff enters the song like a night terror bout, waking us from our synth bubble. Gallup’s absence from the band is certainly felt on “The Upstairs Room” and its single counterpart “The Walk”. But Smith and Tolhurst deserve credit for staying the course after this tumultuous period in the band’s history.

“I LOVE IT ALL, THESE GAMES WE PLAY. I CLOSE MY EYES. YOU RUN AWAY.”

"TEMPTATION" NEW ORDER (1982)

This month, I’m looking back at movies and tv shows to rediscover songs that graced the screen. The scenes and the music are inseparable. They’re engrained in our heads and our hearts. And they’re proof that the best music we have doesn’t exist in isolation. It attaches itself to a moment or an experience. #SceneSongs

Movie: Trainspotting

The Trainspotting soundtrack required vivid songs to match the movie’s vivid scenes. Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” and Iggy Pop’s. “Lust for Life” captured the mood and energy of two very well-known scenes. But in an atypical move, the director chose to only have the character Diane sing “Temptation” instead of feature the full New Order version. But as an homage to the band, the ‘87 version of the song made its way onto this brilliant soundtrack.

“Temptation” was somewhat easy to miss the first time around if you’re from the States. It was only released as a single at first — and only charted in the U.K. But the singles compilation Substance became a post-punk must-have in the late 80s, which gave me my first exposure to the song. Like the entire Substance double-disc, I loved “Temptation” from the get go. It was devoid of any remnants of Joy Division, but Sumner, Hooky, Morris and Gilbert reinvented a new sound together with swagger and tenacity. In my mind, it is one of the true great New Order anthems. Each band member firing on all cylinders.

“TONIGHT, I THINK I'LL WALK ALONE. I'LL FIND MY SOUL AS I GO HOME.”

"THE BABY SCREAMS" THE CURE (1985)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

The Head On The Door had an ease and accessibility about it. It’s common to deem this trait as a weakness. But nothing could be further from the truth. It isn’t so much a mainstream album, and it certainly isn’t The Cure selling out. The album explores a number of different genres and influences, conjures up a dozen different emotions. It just happens to be danceable with moments of pop. Just maybe you’re dancing in a cemetery, not at prom. The unheralded track “The Baby Screams” is one of my favorite deep cuts from the band.

Here’s proof that the quintet works. It thrives. Smith, Tolhurst, Thompson, Gallup and Williams sound like they’re having a ball playing this. To this day, I still don’t know what the song is about, although it’s definitely not about colicky babies. Like many Cure songs, it’s not about what the song is telling you, it’s about how it makes you feel. When I play “The Baby Screams”, I wanna play air bass to those chunky bass hooks from Gallup. I wanna play air keys with those ironic flourishes from Tolhurst. I wanna get behind Boris’ kit and wail on the drums all afternoon and skip work. I wanna crush those guitar riffs side by side Porl. And I want to scream like a hyena with Robert. But the headphones will do just fine for now.

“HEAVEN, GIVE ME A SIGN. WAITING FOR THE SUN TO SHINE. PLEASURE FILLS UP MY DREAMS AND I LOVE IT, LIKE A BABY SCREAMS.”

"DOUBTS EVEN HERE" NEW ORDER (1981)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

It is sobering, yet also somewhat disorienting to think that Movement came out just a year and a half after Ian Curtis’ suicide. In some ways, it seemed much too soon to be getting back to writing, playing and recording. But this was how Sumner, Hooky and Morris moved forward. Movement, in many ways, was a way to keep Ian Curtis’ legacy alive. Many of the songs unequivocally feel more like Joy Division than New Order, including “The Him” and the lesser heralded “Doubts Even Here”.

While Movement isn’t my favorite New Order album by any stretch, ”Doubts Even Here” has been captivating and, at times, it has possessed this magnetic quality. There’s something in the song that continually pulls me back into it. Before the changeover to a brighter, synth-driven sound, here New Order saluted the post-punk agenda of Joy Division. “Doubts Even Here” conjured up a complex melee of emotions, from sadness to despair, to fury. And they pulled it off magnificently here before the mold was set – with Stephen Morris writing all the lyrics and Hooky on lead vocals.

“Too much of heaven's eyes I saw through.”

"PAPER TIGERS" THE CHAMELEONS (1983)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

The Chameleons enjoyed a bit of a cult status back in the eighties. It wasn’t until several decades later, in the early 2000’s, that the band’s undeniable influence became fully apparent. Now, it’s hard to imagine that some of the post-punk revival acts from that era could exist without The Chameleons. Of course, the two bands that stand out the most are the Editors and Interpol. The angular guitar playing, driving bass lines, atmospheric soundscapes and ominous vocals became a blueprint from which a new generation could build off. Script of the Bridge is required listening for any post punk music fan. And the listener must push past “Don’t Fall”, “Second Skin”, and “Up the Down Escalator” and hear the album in its entirety. The deep cuts, like “Paper Tigers” are just as good as the more well-known tracks.

“Paper Tigers” is a rollicky ride, a banger of a track where every instrument becomes a rhythmic element. I hear a little Interpol here with the foreshadowing of Daniel Kessler’s chiming guitar explorations. I sense a little Editors going on as well a la Tom Smith. The Chameleons were around creating these superb sonic landscapes twenty years before these great post-punk revival bands made their appearance. “Paper Tigers” is proof of the sheer depth of this pioneer’s catalog. When it came to the impact on future acts, the deep cuts from The Chameleons often cut the deepest.

“Too much and it makes me crazy. Not enough and it makes me lazy.”

"SINKING" THE CURE (1985)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

I count The Head On The Door among my top five favorite Cure albums. This was the record that brought me into the fold. True, it is known for being one of the more accessible recordings from their catalog. It’s poppier for sure. And often times, fans will recommend that new enthusiasts start with this album first, then branch out to the less accessible stuff. But the thing is, The Head On The Door tends to get written off as a one-dimensional pop fest. The final proof that this is preposterous is the last track, “Sinking”. It might be my favorite closer of all time, from any band.

That sinking feeling is captured so perfectly and profoundly on the track. In true Cure fashion, the instruments take on a life of their own, personifying human emotions so beautifully. The guitar harmonics and tragic synth interludes seem to drag each other down into the mire. Smith doesn’t sling a ton of lyrics around on this one. But every word counts. Every word has a nearly unbearable weight attached to it. Gallup’s bass line mopes around, pacing back and forth in its misery. “Sinking” might seem more at home on a record like Disintegration, but as the final track on The Head On The Door, it’s a reminder that The Cure, as always, is in touch with every emotion.

“I CROUCH IN FEAR AND WAIT. I'LL NEVER FEEL AGAIN... IF ONLY I COULD REMEMBER ANYTHING AT ALL.”

"DECADES" JOY DIVISION (1980)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

Few bands can be described as monumental. But I’ll go ahead and say that Joy Division is truly monumental as pioneers and influencers. They were simply doing things no one else was doing. And no one else sounded like Joy Division. Much credit, of course, goes to the irreplaceable Ian Curtis. His tortured, almost catatonic vocals crawled under your skin. There are many monumental tracks in the Joy Division canon, and one of the premier examples is the closer to Closer. There’s a tactile quality about “Decades” that makes it stand out from all the other JD tracks.

Every musical component on “Decades” feels incredibly tactile, a huge credit to Martin Hannett. I don’t love everything he produced for the band, but I think he totally nailed this closing track. The synthesizer chords are like glass shards. The bass line isn’t your typical riff from Hooky, but it works as the listener feels the pluck of every note. The drum intro kicks off eerily similar to “She’s Lost Control”, only here Morris switches into a heavier, rock-like drum part at the 4:35 mark. But the hero once again is Ian. His voice sounds like a ghost that refuses to leave the premises.

“Each ritual showed up the door for our wanderings, Open then shut, then slammed in our face.”

"LEAVE ME ALONE" NEW ORDER (1983)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

Power, Corruption And Lies is the album where New Order’s unique identity began to come to fruition. On their debut recording, Movement, they seemed almost chained up by the ghosts of Joy Division and Ian Curtis. After all, it was literally months after the death of both entities when the began headed back to the recording studio. Probably the two biggest changes that occurred on PC&L were the larger emphasis on synthesizers and the distinctly different vocal approach of Bernard Sumner, which was far lighter than Curtis, even whimsical at times. However, for the final track on the PC&L, New Order chose a song that still has delightful tinges of Joy Division.

This is the strength of “Leave Me Alone”, the fact that it straddles the fence between both eras without compromising artistically. In fact, it’s the influences of both bands’ sounds that make this track so good. Barney is no Ian and would never be mistaken for him. But this is also a far cry away from the dance rock approach that New Order would become famous for. In his depression, Ian often sounded detached from everyone. But with Barney, his own struggles seem much more relatable and within reach. The guitars on “Leave Me Alone” stretch upward to a more New Order-esque sound, but the song maintains strong roots to the Joy Division sound especially with Stephen’s drum finale.

“On a thousand islands in the sea, I see a thousand people just like me.”

"IS THIS IT" THE STROKES (2001)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

The first time I heard the debut album from The Strokes, I was riding up from S.F. to Lake Tahoe with an old high school buddy. We had nonstop tracks blasting in the car and fresh tracks waiting for us on the mountain. The music was cranked up to the point where you almost felt a little nauseous. And this was the album I’ll always associate with that trip. I’ve heard The Strokes described as the band that saved rock & roll. I don’t think it’s too much of an exaggeration either. When I heard that album, I had a feeling inside that all was good with rock music. That there was direction, an identity. And, of course, it all started with the title track.

“Is This It” is the thesis statement to the whole masterpiece that is one of the strongest debut albums of the decade. It wasn’t the biggest hit by any stretch. But it was the introduction to the raw, minimally produced garage sound that is The Strokes. This sound helped steer the New York concert scene in the early 2000s, and now there’s even a movie about it that documents the era when The Strokes, Interpol, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and others took command of the music scene. “Is This It” sounded vaguely familiar and entirely fresh at the same time.

“Oh dear, can't you see? It's them it's not me. We're not enemies. We just disagree.”

"THE KISS" THE CURE (1987)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

The double album Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me captured the full spectrum of human emotions. It also showcased the band’s versatile instrumentation, especially on guitar. The rich, vast explorations on the album make it a great one to re-explore. Many people point to The Head On The Door as the start of The Cure’s imperial era, and Disintegration is universally recognized as the band’s masterpiece. Which sorta makes Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me a slightly underrated album, despite housing some of the band’s most well-known singles. One of my favorite tracks is the scorching, perilous opener “The Kiss”.

“The Kiss” is like the evil cousin of New Order’s “The Perfect Kiss”. It’s not a pretty affair. This Track One has four stages in a sprawling magnum opus. First, the lover is beckoned over. In the second stage, the lover becomes the subject of utter infatuation. Quickly, things make a turn for the worse. In the third stage, the lover is now suddenly the subject of disdain. And by the fourth and final stage, there’s nothing left except the protagonist’s wish for the lover to leave this world. In six minutes, it goes from “the” kiss to the kiss of death, flanked by a loud, wailing guitar that’s nearly possessed and Boris’ emphatic pounding on the drums that deliver the final nails in the coffin. Just brilliant in every regard.

“I never wanted this.”

"AGE OF CONSENT" NEW ORDER (1983)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

On the day of the show, one of my concert buddies and I snagged well-priced tickets on the floor at the Garden to see the Unity tour, featuring New Order, Pet Shop Boys and Paul Oakenfold. The songs brought me back to a really good place. A place where only the music matters. No matter what other crap is happening in the world, we still have these songs. And that means something. It’s why I often feel this sense of euphoria when I’m at a concert, particularly one at the Garden. The second song on the setlist was the opening track to Power, Corruption and Lies, the song that made it clear New Order was forging its own path forward, not simply wandering the same path of Joy Division.

The word “infectious” maybe gets a little overused when describing music. But, I mean, is there a better word to describe “Age of Consent”? It sucks you in with that iconic bass line from Peter Hook. Played high up on the neck as was typical for Hooky, it stays firmly in the foreground of the song. The lyrics spewing from Sumner are like a confession. Something to get off your chest. Which leads me to the next word that best describes this New Order classic. Liberating. Did Sumner write this so that we can somehow be free?

“And I'm not the kind that likes to tell you just what I want to do. I'm not the kind that needs to tell you just what you want me to.”

"PAINTED BIRD" SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES (1982)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 19

Not exactly a deep cut, but far from the obvious Siouxsie pick, today I’m going with “Painted Bird” off 1982’s underrated A Kiss In The Dreamhouse. There are some household tracks here: “Melt”, “Fireworks” and “Slowdive” are the biggest ones. The album before – Juju – is perhaps more recognizable. But A Kiss In The Dreamhouse was more daring and more experimental. Exactly the reasons why I chose “Painted Bird” of all Siouxsie tracks.

“Painted Bird” rewrites the rules on just about everything. It uses unconventional time signatures and seems to adjust its tempo mid-track. McGeoch experiments with various guitar riffs, from soaring hooks to shuffled arpeggios. Budgie’s drum kit is transformed into a percussion playground. Severin lends a hand on organ. Siouxsie turns in yet another vivid, gut-wrenching vocal performance. And the last 15 seconds of the song are a testament to the gripping power of an unexpected close.

“On lead-poisoned wings – you try to sing. Freak beak shrieks are thrown – at your confusing hue. The peacock screaming eyes – show no mercy no mercy.”

"JUST LIKE HONEY" THE JESUS & MARY CHAIN (1985)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 10

Songs are peculiar little things. They make us feel things. Happy feelings. Sad feelings. Angry feelings. And sometimes they prompt rather extreme emotions, like sheer euphoria or utter outrage. The lyrics, of course, play a big role in this. Words have power. But words aren’t always necessary as we’ve seen throughout music history – from Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” masterpiece to The Doors’ “Moonlight Drive”. The musical arrangements and instrumentation can be just as powerful. This is especially true with the 80’s anthem “Just Like Honey”.

I discovered The Jesus and Mary Chain a good four years after “Just Like Honey” was released. My favorite radio station WDRE (formerly WLIR) was giving the frenetic, electric “Head On” decent airplay and I just couldn’t get enough. My introduction to the band immediately gave me the feeling that they wanted to take me on a ride. “Head On” was like a demon-possessed roller coaster – and the thing wouldn’t stop. But “Just Like Honey” was more like a carousel of bliss. It seems to swirl around indefinitely in a hazy slo-mo daze. And once I’m on, i don’t ever want to come down.

“Walking back to you is the hardest thing that I can do.”

"DO IT CLEAN" ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN (1980)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 5

Echo & the Bunnymen may be considered by many to be one of the preeminent post-punk bands. But in some ways, they didn’t sound anything like a post-punk band. The biggest influence on their sound is obviously The Doors. Much of the LA rock legend’s blues-inspired sound, organ hooks and vocal crooning were passed on to Echo. In fact, the band has even covered Doors classics, including “Soul Kitchen” and “People Are Strange”. But “Do It Clean” may be the perfect example of inspiration and originality.

It starts off with a heavy, urgent dose of guitar and bass with a 70s rock vibe before settling into its confident, rolling mid-tempo. McCullough doesn’t sound like the second coming of Jim Morrison. He comes off like a frontman with his own distinct identity and agenda. But if that organ riff doesn’t remind you of Ray Manzarek, I don’t know what will. One of the first few Echo songs that I had the fortune of discovering through WDRE/WLIR, “Do It Clean” is a reminder of how good we had it with local alternative rock radio.

“I had a handful of this. What did I do with it? I had a barrel of this. What did I do with it?”