About A Song: 'I Can't Go For That'

by Robin Hilton

Earlier this week, Bob and I got together with Song of the Day editor Stephen Thompson and Monitor Mix blogger Carrie Brownstein to talk about music from the 1980s. The question: Were the '80s really that bad? We recorded our conversation, along with a ton of memorable songs from back then. We'll put that up next Tuesday for you to hear and tell us what you think.

All this talk of '80s music this week has overwhelmed my brain with insanely catchy but utterly maddening hits, none more so than the Hall and Oates classic "I Can't Go for That."

I don't like to suffer alone, so I emailed Carrie the words to the song's most mania-inducing cycle: "I can't go for that / No I / No can do." Rinse and repeat. Carrie, in turn, suggested I offer these words up for interpretation.

So, what do you think? Is it just empty pop with a good beat, or is there something deeper going on?

Easy ready willing overtime
When does it stop, where do you dare me to draw the line
You got the body now you want my soul
Don't even think about it say no go
Now I'll do anything you want me to
I'll do almost anything that you want me to
But I can't go for that
No can do
I can't go for being twice as nice
I can't go for just repeating the some old lines
Use the body now you want my soul
Ooh forget about it say no go
Yeah, I'll do anything you want me to
I'll do almost anything that you want me to
But I can't go for that
No can do.

Robin Hilton

3:00 PM ET | 08-28-2008 | permalink

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Bob Has All The Fun

by Robin Hilton

If all goes according to plan this afternoon, All Songs Considered host Bob Boilen will be hanging out with Radiohead and attending the last performance of the band's U.S. tour in Santa Barbara, Calif., while I sit in the D.C. office and stare out the window at the falling rain. (Cue strings.)

I tried catching Radiohead at a show earlier this year in Virginia, but was foiled by a torrential downpour and an impossible traffic jam to get into the venue.

If Radiohead's Aug. 25 performance at the Hollywood Bowl is any indication, Bob's in for a perfect storm of musical rapture. At that show, the band covered what I know to be one of Bob's favorite songs by one of his all-time favorite artists, Neil Young. The song: "Tell Me Why" from After the Gold Rush.

Thom Yorke may be doing his best to channel Young, but I'd never noticed how similar their voices are. It's really spot-on. Radiohead doesn't need to do more than it already has to win my respect and admiration, but there's always something comforting about newer bands paying respect to the past like this. It's also a sort of validation, not to mention a nice surprise gift to fans of both artists.

Some of my favorite cover moments include Arcade Fire doing Bruce Springsteen's "State Trooper" with Springsteen, The Shins covering Pink Floyd's "Breathe," and Ryan Adams covering The Rolling Stones' "Brown Sugar" with Beth Orton. I saw him do it at the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C., once. It was so unexpected and haunting.

So, Bob, I hope your night is full of surprises like this. In the meantime, I'll be back here asking readers, "What are some of your favorite cover moments?"

Robin Hilton

9:46 AM ET | 08-28-2008 | permalink

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Ra Ra Cello

by Bob Boilen

Our latest episode of All Songs Considered features the New York rock group Ra Ra Riot. I've always been a sucker for the warm sound of a cello, and the band's new album has plenty of it. ("I Am the Walrus" by the Beatles and "10538 Overture" by E.L.O. are a couple of others.)

I wrote a note to the cellist of Ra Ra Riot, Alexandra Lawn, to see what it's like to play cello in a rock band. She sent back this wonderful little note:

"Cellists sit. Sitting with our instrument is as important as our bow-hold or our left-hand technique. We sit in orchestras, quartets. We are the ones that require the wedding planners to make sure they have an extra chair for us. We sit well. We sit right. We can bob our heads furiously and shimmy in our seats, but that's where the cello dance ends.

"I guess I got 'Angelina Ballerina Syndrome' (the ever and always ballet-dancing mouse) when I began playing cello in Ra Ra Riot. Here was this group of people who could jump, whirl, rock out... WHILE PLAYING... what? I was not going to just sit there. I'd look like a bobbing turtle. I was going to stand, too. I found a block of cement that I began bringing to every show with me so that I would have something to stabilize myself and the cello with. Think Captain Morgan stance. Eventually, I graduated: No cement block needed here. We played and toured so much that it became a very intense practice for standing and dancing with the cello. Some might say it looks dumb, but it's more fun than sitting. Now it feels as if I have my 'electric-cello-rock-goddess' (right, Allie) technique, as well as the 'I'm-still-a-classical-
cellist-dammit!' technique. Whatever the reaction to my new technique and lack thereof is, I am having the time of my life."

I shared this story with producer Robin Hilton, who immediately remembered a scene we both love from Woody Allen's Take the Money and Run:

Got any great moments in cello history?

Bob Boilen

3:24 PM ET | 08-26-2008 | permalink

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Art vs. History

by Bob Boilen

It happened once before, long ago: July 20, 1969, to be exact. I'd bought tickets to see Blind Faith and I was psyched, until I realized that it was the night of the very first manned moon landing -- and the very first walk on the moon.

I was so torn: The moon landing was such an incredibly exciting and uncertain event, but I was also a music fanatic (surprise), and the idea of seeing Eric Clapton (he was so good back then), Stevie Winwood (he was so good back then) and Ginger Baker (he is still pretty good) was a one-shot chance. I was still kicking myself for missing the Goodbye Cream Tour the year before.

The moon landing was scheduled around late afternoon or early evening -- I can't recall -- but the astronauts were scheduled to take a rest before they did their walk. So I figured I could go to the concert and drive back from Baltimore in time to see the walk.It didn't happen that way. The moon walk happened earlier than planned, or at least earlier than the television news had led me to believe. In fact, Ginger Baker wouldn't come out (or so we were told) until the moon walk happened.

There were no big screens at the Baltimore Civic Center, and no simulcasts. In fact, when my friend Pete and I got home, it was just a few steps away from their re-entry into the lunar lander. There were no instant replays, either.

I have a chance to see Radiohead in Santa Barbara on the last day of the band's U.S. tour. It is also the same night that Barack Obama accepts the Democratic nomination to be president.

I bought my plane ticket.

Bob Boilen

5:19 PM ET | 08-22-2008 | permalink

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About A Song: 'Hallelujah'

by Bob Boilen

I was at the Newport Folk Festival a few weeks ago, and onstage was Brandi Carlile, a stunning presence with an incredible voice. (We'll get that concert online for you a bit later.) Her encore was "Hallelujah," the Leonard Cohen song made famous by Jeff Buckley and covered by many artists since.

She belted it out, which was a far cry from Buckley's delicate version, but it was fairly jaw-dropping nonetheless. When it was done, someone said to me, "I love that song; what the hell is it about?"

Have you ever heard a song a hundred times, sung it in your head and never given any thought to what it means? Was Leonard Cohen writing about euphoria, elation, pain, suffering, exultation when he penned "Hallelujah"?

Here are a few versions. What do you think this song is about?

Leonard Cohen:

Jeff Buckley:

Rufus Wainwright:

Here are the many verses I know of this song; Buckley and others leave a few of them off.

Now, I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
But I remember when I moved in you
The holy dove she was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried (learned) to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come (all this way) to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand (right here) before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry (complaint) that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Bob Boilen

2:51 PM ET | 08-19-2008 | permalink

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Top 10 '80s Pop Songs

by Robin Hilton

This is one of our favorite topics of discussion at NPR Music: What was the worst and best decade for pop music? We'll post a survey later asking you what you think, but I say the worst is the '80s.

For me, the production and instrumentation in the '80s ruined popular music. I'm referring specifically to Top 40 songs you could hear on the radio. It was so over-the-top. The production was gaudy, with hard-edged synths and electric drums overpowering the melodies. Part of the problem was that these were fairly new instruments, and we hadn't learned how to finesse them yet.

My dislike of '80s pop music has earned me a reputation among friends as a cranky killjoy who just doesn't get it. But, as with all cranky killjoys, the truth is that I secretly loved a number of songs from back then, but never would have admitted as much.

Here are the Top 10 '80s pop songs I secretly loved. When they came on the car radio, I'd roll up the windows so no one would hear and then crank the volume.

In no particular order:

1. "Head Over Heels" by Tears for Fears, from the 1985 album Songs from the Big Chair

I remember getting into an argument in my high-school cafeteria with someone who asserted that Tears for Fears was one of the greatest bands ever, but there's some great tension in this song. It builds with a sweeping synth solo at about the 1:30 mark, and peaks with what I thought was a pretty awesome phase-shifting drum fill at 2:45.

2. "Life in a Northern Town" by The Dream Academy from the band's self-titled 1985 debut

I never knew what this song was about, but it always got me a little misty-eyed. It really takes me back hearing it now.

3. "Too Much Time on My Hands" by Styx from the 1981 album Paradise Theater

I played keyboards in a cover band in high school, and this was one of my favorite songs to do. One year, we performed for the high-school Christmas dance. At one point, while jamming that opening synth line, I looked out into the audience and saw someone breakdancing. I really thought we'd made it.

4. "Close (to the Edit)" by The Art of Noise, from the 1984 album Who's Afraid of The Art of Noise?

This is a brilliant video. But it was the bluesy bass line and quirky industrial samples used for beats that made me fall in love. I searched around to see where the little girl in the video is now, but didn't find anything.

5. "Jessie's Girl" by Rick Springfield, from his 1981 album Working Class Dog

This is probably my most embarrassing confession, but this does have a really catchy guitar line and melody. I fell in love with it again after it appeared in the film Boogie Nights.

6. "Major Tom (Coming Home)" by Peter Schilling, from his 1983 album Error in the System

I believe that this was conceived as some sort of a sequel to David Bowie's "Major Tom." It's got an incredibly cheesy synth line driving it. But there was something addictive about the melody, and the chorus -- kicked off with the 4-3-2-1 countdown -- was a favorite sing-along of mine.

7. "She Blinded Me With Science" by Thomas Dolby, from the 1982 album The Golden Age of Wireless

This may be my favorite pop song from the '80s. It's funny, catchy, funky, strange. Thomas Dolby never had another hit like it -- though he continues to make records -- but he did go on to develop software used to encode and play Internet audio. He also came up with a company that makes synthesizers for cell phones and software to manage ringtones. A real scientist!

8. "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by The Eurythmics from the 1983 album of the same name

Another great bass line. And I love Annie Lennox's voice. The song and video both have a fantastic darkness to them that I never would have guessed was a theme I'd love. But now, looking back and looking over the kind of music I like today, I can see the connections.

9. "99 Luftballoons" by Nena, released in 1983

I had to play a version of this song in high-school pep band, which you'd think would have ruined it for me. But for some reason, it could always make me drive my car faster.

10. "Holding Back the Years" by Simply Red from the 1985 album Picture Book

This is basically smooth jazz, so I should have hated it, but I didn't. I still love it today. Mick Hucknall had (probably still has) a beautiful voice, and there was a nice wistfulness to the song I really connected with.

What are yours?

Robin Hilton

1:40 PM ET | 08-15-2008 | permalink

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Music To Drive By

by Bob Boilen

The summer is slipping by at a breakneck pace, but there's still time for you to take a road trip and reconnect with some of your favorite music. We're compiling our favorite kinds of music to drive by here. Tell us your favorite driving songs and why.

I still remember the first time I was pulled over by the police. I had bought my first car stereo, a cassette deck with auto reverse, and I was in heaven. I installed it myself, and that's when the trouble began. If I made a sharp turn, the deck would slide, and if I made an abrupt stop, there was a chance it would fall down the dashboard hole in which it sat.

The idea that we can choose the music we want to hear while we drive was born in my generation. Before that, you were a slave to the DJ. Sure, surprises were nice, but putting on your own music just made driving so much better.

So I was ending my day: 8 a.m. classes in college that ended around noon, then on to work at the record store (Waxie Maxies in Rockville, Md.) and home at 9:30. I didn't have many cassettes at the time -- a few homemade ones, that sort of thing -- but I remember Bayou Country by Creedence Clearwater Revival. I had made a sharp turn, probably going a bit too fast, pumped up by the rhythm.

I was trying to fix the deck that had slid out of its place, and then the 7:43 version of "Keep on Chooglin'" came on. I was duplicating the beat on my steering wheel -- steering wheels were better suited for thumping before the advent of the airbag. And then it happened: In the dark of a summer night, I saw the lights. I turned off the music, pulled over, pulled out my license and waited. I told the officer that I was distracted by the music, and that I was sorry. He let me go. I drove home in silence.

All summer, we've been posting lists of great driving music: songs for speeding, songs for driving at night, songs for your Heavy Metal Road Trip, that sort of thing. As summer winds down, so is our Road Trip: Songs To Drive By series, but we'd like to close it out with some selections and stories from readers. What's your driving song? And why?

Bob Boilen

3:45 PM ET | 08-13-2008 | permalink

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Don Helms, 1927-2008

by Robin Hilton

You've probably heard the Hank Williams classic "Your Cheatin' Heart." The song is one of the best examples of the honky-tonk sound Williams helped create, due in no small part to the signature steel guitar that opens the track. The man behind that steel guitar -- the same one that appeared on so many Hank Williams tunes, including "Hey Good Lookin'" and "Cold Cold Heart" -- was Don Helms. We learned today that Helms has died at the age of 81.

Hank Williams with Don Helms on steel, performing "Cold Cold Heart":

Helms was one of the few surviving members of Hank Williams' Drifting Cowboys band, the group that backed Williams on his recordings and live performances in the '40s and '50s. Williams died in 1953, but Helms and the other band members continued to play. Helms appeared on recordings by Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and Lefty Frizzell, including the songs "Walkin' After Midnight" and "Long Black Veil."

In an interview with the Lafayette INDsider a couple years ago, Helms described how "Your Cheatin' Heart" came to be: "I played (Hank Williams) an intro, and we sang the song through one time. Nobody made a mistake bad enough to require us to do it again. We went through it one time, never played it on the stage -- just that one time in the studio. After that, I never saw him alive again. The record didn't come out until after Hank had died."

Helms died of an apparent heart attack Monday in Nashville.

Robin Hilton

3:37 PM ET | 08-12-2008 | permalink

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When Music Was Best

by Bob Boilen

There's a certain point of maturity -- or maybe it's immaturity -- when music is most likely to make an indelible mark. If you were that ripe age when you first heard and fell in love with Pavement, then Pavement will not only remain near and dear to your heart, but will also shape what you come to love about music in the future. Maybe it's the humor, the guitar tone or the singing style. At least that's my theory.

So here's a short survey, just three questions.

Basically, I'm asking you to tell me what year was the best year for music. I've put the years in pairs so the list isn't quite so long. Then I want to know how old you were when that music was being made. Maybe it was before you were born, or maybe 1977 is your favorite year and you were 16.

Anyway, we can take all those answers -- you'll see the results as the votes come in -- and we can come to some conclusion about it all. In the meantime, feel free to comment on your favorite years for music making.

Bob Boilen

12:29 PM ET | 08- 8-2008 | permalink

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Newport Folk Festival Day 3

by Bob Boilen

There are three stages at Newport: a tiny one called the Waterfront Stage, the perfect-sized Harbor Stage (where we webcast and broadcast from on Saturday, and the huge Fort Stage. We webcast from the Fort Stage on Sunday.

I liked the Harbor Stage -- it felt intimate but not tiny -- but the Fort Stage, with its Jumbotron screens, is festival-sized. The boats parked in the harbor should have been able to see Jimmy Buffett's pink patterned pants just fine.

Willy Mason was singing by 11:30 a.m. Sunday, and though I love a good musical saw and the sweetness of his musical family, I never connected with his songs. I'm not sure it was the right stage for him.

Bring back the Young@Heart Chorus for next year's Sunday-morning wake up.

One of the dangers of an afternoon festival is getting beaten down by the hot sun. Consequently, while Brandi Carlile singing Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" had everyone up and smiling, some of Calexico's slower numbers may have been better suited to a summer sunset.

What makes a festival great is witnessing something you wouldn't catch at a club concert. Hearing Jim James sing the Dylan song "Going to Acapulco" (from the Basement Tapes) with Calexico and seeing Gillian Welch play along with Levon Helm's big band were a few of my highlights.

Hearing a few new songs can be a good thing at a festival, but you don't want too many. Gillian Welch and David Rawlings played three new songs, and that seemed just right. It's been five years since they last released a new record.

I'd never heard Brandi Carlisle and fell for her the moment I heard her voice. Well, at least I fell for her voice; the band seemed talented enough; but the music didn't have enough twists, turns and mystery to hold my interest. I need to go and listen to her music. Brandi Carlile fans, please weigh in and suggest a few tunes I should hear.

Gillian Welch dropped by the NPR tent, and my co-hosting partner -- WFUV's Rita Houston -- struck up a casual conversation that covered everything from making that new album to wearing that vintage dress.

Levon Helm ended our broadcast day. I've seen Helm in his prime as a drummer and singer with The Band, and I have to say that this was a bigger treat. He's survived throat cancer, and I think it's fair to say that he had a lot of help and continues to get a lot of love from his friends and family. That was plain to see on stage, with his daughter Amy singing and Larry Campbell on guitar and fiddle and his big warm band. Helm's smiles on the Jumbotron warmed my heart, and his singing was damn fine. This band played an appealing mix of Southern porch jazz; its trumpets should have stuck around for next weekend's Newport Jazz Festival. (We're webcasting from there, as well.)

By the end of the day, before Jimmy Buffett's set (which we didn't webcast), I wandered over to the tent I was so fond of on Saturday. There were The Avett Brothers, tearing it up, with Scott Avett stomping on a bass drum while playing a thrashing banjo; his face was fiery red, and the the music matched his intensity. We must do something with these guys live sometime -- sorry it wasn't at Newport. Scott, Seth... you game?

Bob Boilen

2:06 PM ET | 08- 4-2008 | permalink

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Newport Folk Festival Day 2

by Bob Boilen

It was a day of surprises. For one, who thought a group of octogenarians could rock the house?

But the Young@Heart Chorus had everyone singing the songs of Talking Heads, Lou Reed, Radiohead and more. Watch a minute of them singing Springsteen and stick with it: It's only a minute, and it is completely endearing.

It looked like we were going to bake in the sun, but by the time She & Him took the stage, it was a drenching storm. The storm took out power to much of the town of Newport, and I'm told that the only power in town belonged to the stages there.

We lost our feed to WFUV -- and to our webcast -- just before Jim James was to play his set. But we did manage to record it, so you can hear it here.

This was the highlight of the day for me. It was more than the drama of the weather; it was seeing a songwriter and singer in his prime. Jim James has that Jeff Buckley quality to him, and it isn't a stretch to say that James brings to Newport what Tim Buckley brought to Newport in 1968: an eclectic taste in music, complete with a jazz side, and that voice.

We're sorry that we weren't able to get permission to webcast or archive the Cat Power set. Her band was so good. and she was just an incredible performer, spending a good deal of her time down in the audience dancing, swaying and singing.

By the end of the day, the Trey Anastasio fans seemed to be the ones with mud on their legs, but everyone had bit of sunshine in their hearts.

Bob Boilen

1:34 PM ET | 08- 3-2008 | permalink

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Newport Folk Festival Day 1

by Bob Boilen

Within a few minutes of arriving on the grounds of the Newport Folk Festival, I encountered a bit of a legend. Bob Jones has been coming to the festival almost since it began, and he had some great stories to tell. He talked about the workshops that went on during the day (the concerts were mostly at night back in the '50s and '60s). He talked about seeing bluesman Skip James, and about how James' guitar playing included some diminished chords and made a sound he hasn't ever forgotten. We also talked about seeing Dylan in '63 and '64, and then the infamous electric show of '65.

Friday night, I went to the Tennis Hall of Fame (who knew it was in Newport? who knew there was a Tennis Hall of Fame?). It was there I saw Brian Wilson. So surreal: people dancing on the grass tennis courts, complete with tennis gestures, while "California Girls" played. It was a greatest-hits show, with only one song from his upcoming new solo record. Some lyrics about shutting his eyes when he was 25. Wilson seemed a little more present -- no Teleprompters -- but it was odd how disconnected he is from it all, at least from his body language and demeanor. He's the opposite of charismatic, but all that dissipates when you hear his stunning 12-piece band carry the songs.

The closest we got to folk music was "Sloop John B" -- which, of course, was a folk tune, West Indies in nature, recorded by Alan Lomax. It was first popularized by The Weavers and then in 1966 turned into a hit by The Beach Boys.

When "Barbara Ann" kicked in toward the end of the set, I had to leave. I felt as if I were on the set of one of those baby-boomer concerts; it was all too much.

Jim James, She and Him, Steve Earle and Jakob Dylan all perform tomorrow.

Bob Boilen

9:30 PM ET | 08- 2-2008 | permalink

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