Showing posts with label seventies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seventies. Show all posts

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Mental Jukebox-- Wednesday 12.12.7

My apologies to all four of you who read this for the late post.

Gemini Dream-- The Moody Blues
Windowsill-- Arcade Fire
Breakfast in America-- Supertramp
Major Tom (Coming Home)-- Peter Schilling
At A Medium Pace-- Adam Sandler
Los Angeles-- X
Whatever, Wherever-- Shakira


And I know I fucked up the title of that Shakira song and you'll just have to forgive me for not caring a whit. It's Shakira. The presence of her music in my head is unwelcome and proof that my brain wants to kill me.

Something To Fall Back On-- Todd Rundgren
Human-- Human League
Eat The Rich-- Aerosmith
Sweet Leaf-- Black Sabbath
Who Are The Brain Police?-- Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention



Punk used to mean something. In my poor little head, it still does.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Mental Jukebox-- Tuesday 11.27.7

This was the day that would not end. It just went on and on, my friends. And on a day when I really needed to hear Across the Universe, it didn't show up at all. Thanks, Mental Jukebox. Thanks a lot.

Here's what did play. It's a shorter list than yesterday's list, which is probably a good thing. Or bad. It depends on how much you enjoy the blog, I suppose.

It's A Sin-- Pet Shop Boys

Again, you can always count on the first song of the day to be totally out of left field... I think maybe the FSOTD is a remnant from the last dream you had before waking. Geez... enough kosmic debris for you? Next, I'll be asking koans. Sorry. On we go.

Little Boxes-- Pete Seeger

That one is your fault, Ebenezer. All you.

What's Left of Me-- Nick Lachey

WHY? WHY? WHY? Not the song I needed to hear when the phones are ringing off the hook at work, because when I hear it, I want to be underlit, cry just a little, make a fist and pull it slowly down in front of my face to show you my manly pain. And it needs to be raining. Inside. On my phone. "Sorry," I say to the guy on the phone as I make another fist, "I can't talk right now. It's raining inside and my heart is breaking. Let me connect you to Customer Service."

I Get Around-- The Beach Boys
Signals Over the Air-- Thursday


I know I'm headed towards 40 and I'm not supposed to like Thursday.
I like Thursday.

All The Kids Are Right-- Local H
You're Wrong-- NOFX
Lost Without Your Love-- Bread


If you're old enough to remember not only the band, but the people hosting the television show this clip is taken from, you shouldn't like Thursday. But I hope you do. And I hope you'll comment me. It makes me happy.