Showing posts with label Johnny Cash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Johnny Cash. Show all posts

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Dorktastic

One day, almost exactly 4 years ago, Alan did one of those Facebook things where you hit shuffle on your playlist and post what songs come up. I present his playlist below, with our comments from Facebook, but no other commentary.

1. It Aint' Me Babe (Dylan)


2. Street Walkin' (Auerbach)


 

3. I Can't Help It (Williams)


4. Shitbox  (Noisia)



5. Chain That Door (Mudhoney)


6. Queen Jane Approximately (Dylan)


7. The Last Time (Cash)


8. Spaceships (Jeremiah Nelson and The Achilles Heel)


9. Little Red-Haired Girl (Ezra Furman and The Harpoons)


10. If Not For You (Dylan)


11. Pour Me Another (Atmosphere)



12. Crumb Begging Baghead (Babyshambles)


13. Most Likely You Go Your Way (Dylan)



14. Sky Pager (A Tribe Called Quest)


15. Attention (The Raconteurs)


Me: So, I decided to do this, and discovered some artists I had forgotten about. Just to give you an idea, 5 classical, 5 jazz, 4 contemporary, 1 video game music.

Alan: you would. haha

Me: I would what?

Alan: you would have dorktastic music

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

So Lonesome

One of the frequent genres on his playlist starting when he lived in Madison was old country. Not all this new pickup truck, dogs, cheap alcohol, women, and country roads crap, but the old stuff. On the bottom of his bookshelf sits a Patsy Cline CD.

Probably the most frequent country artist to show up on the playlist, sitting in the basement in Waunakee, driving around, was Hank Williams.


The deep voice, the sorrowful yodel, the crying steel guitar, and the forlorn lyrics. I can see why this was the country music Alan connected with. Another Williams track:


Johnny Cash also famously covered that one, both in his early career, and right before his death.

From that same late-life album:



There is something so much sadder about Cash's music in those late albums. Alan had some early Cash on his computer, but seemed to tend toward these -- covers that somehow captured something of sadness and loss that surpasses even the originals.