Five Songs I'm Obsessing Over
Love songs, hate songs, breakups, tributes, fatherhood, and swingin' hard.
It’s no secret that music is my life’s obsession. Music history is what others describing autistic people call my “special interest.” I’ve read countless essays, articles, and books on music history, and there is always more to learn, which encourages my esoteric knowledge to grow.
Currently I’m in the middle of at least three books on music, including some I plan to review in an article on music history books of the last decade. In a recent week, I finished three books about music (thank God for audiobooks!).
These books are spurring me to look into the work of artists like Luther Vandross, Joy Division, Betty Davis, Labelle, the KLF, and others that deserve considerably more attention than I have given them.
But for this music obsessive, I do tend to get metaphorically stuck in a groove of listening to the same music over and over. I am getting much better at exploring more music than just what I know I will like, but that doesn’t mean I don’t obsess about the same damn songs day after day.
For this blog, though, I wanted to focus on five songs that are definitely getting repeated listens from me on different platforms. You can listen to the songs, which span from jazz to contemporary country, below.
“Gandhi/Buddha” (live), Cheryl Wheeler
Folk singer-songwriter Cheryl Wheeler is best known for writing songs others have made hits, including “Addicted” (for Dan Seals) and “Aces” (for Suzy Bogguss), but my favorite track of hers is this live version of a song that she has said others have played in their weddings.
By the end, however, let’s just say it turns out to be something completely different. This is both an exquisitely beautiful love song and a hilariously nasty hate song, and Wheeler’s gently melismatic voice tenderly singing the song she wrote for her partner gives way to a bitter counter-version that she wrote from her partner’s perspective. Listen to the whole track to get what I mean. This was my most played track on a streaming service in 2021. I couldn’t get enough of the expertly sharp contrast between the two versions, and dare I say, despite some potentially disastrous historical references, the counter-version made me laugh out loud.
“1990’s Heartbreak,” Hannah Dasher
Country music is known for nostalgia, as music historians like Bill C. Malone have long remarked on it as a hallmark of the genre. But this song gives that nostalgia a contemporary twist that sounds fresh every time I hear it.
Having grown up in the ‘90s, reading about this song on Twitter I looked it up and was hooked by the classic rock ‘n’ roll four-chord guitar riff, which also reminded me of Pam Tillis’s 1997 country hit “Land of the Living,” and the premise of wishing an ex weren’t popping up everywhere with the presence of social media and other technology.
This song is also effective for bringing in listeners who have never been “workin’ on a mixtape” over a romantic split. Though I was a kid in the ‘90s, I suspect that Dasher’s portrayal of what a pre-Internet breakup would look like is accurate, that back then, “bein’ alone was really bein’ alone.”
This recently released song is one of my favorite country singles I’ve heard in a long time. I’ve often thought that an instant classic depends on mixing elements of the new and the familiar, and to me, this song fits the description.
“She Had Me at Heads Carolina,” Cole Swindell
And speaking of the ‘90s, this songs rewrites a quarter-century-old country classic, Jo Dee Messina’s “Heads Carolina, Tails California,” in a way that respects and also builds on the older song’s legacy. I don’t know Cole Swindell’s other work, but by the looks of his song titles, he seems to be in the mold of artists like Luke Bryan and Florida Georgia Line. The difference is that this song is far better than typical “bro country” fare.
Messina’s original is a passionate fantasy of escape from a “one-horse town,” but Swindell’s rewrite tells the story of a night in a bar falling for a woman singing Messina’s song at karaoke. Swindell sings this as a passionate “‘90s country fan” and conveys the pleasures and just plain fun of bonding over a great song.
Released this year on the album Stereotype, the song has been gaining attention, but has yet to be released as a single. It should explode on country radio if it becomes a single.
“Sweet Georgia Brown” (live), Ella Fitzgerald
In her prime, jazz giant Ella Fitzgerald had my favorite voice in the history of music for its flawless sound, but by the mid-1970s, that voice had become frayed. Nevertheless, her underrated 1974 live album Ella in London captures her eternal and virtuosic sense of swing on songs like “Sweet Georgia Brown.”
Though Ella in London does not get the attention of earlier live masterpieces like Mack the Knife: Ella in Berlin, The Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD rated it as her best live album, and the joy and rhythmic drive spills over from this opening track. Interviewed in the documentary Ella Fitzgerald: Just One of Those Things, which is currently available on Netflix, singer Jamie Cullum singles out this performance as an example of how hard Ella could swing a song. I would say that she lays waste to what Cullum calls “that ancient song.”
I don’t know if I could pick a favorite singer, including in jazz, but for joy in music, nobody beats Ella. I reviewed Ella in London for a radio station’s blog, and as usual, the energy she got from performing live is unbeatable. Her inexhaustible catalog is full of gems, but these days I am especially focusing on this monster of joy to get through the pandemic.
“That’s My Job,” Conway Twitty
Conway Twitty had one of my favorite voices in country music. Though not as known for bending notes and affecting emotions the way, say, George Jones did, Twitty could employ a sexy baritone on songs like “I’d Just Love to Lay You Down” while also being a master balladeer on songs like this all time tearjerker. I hadn’t listened to “That’s My Job” much before making my list of my twelve favorite country songs about death and dying, but looking back, it should have made my list.
To me, this 1987 hit is one of the most emotionally moving and devastating records in all of country music. Twitty sings songwriter Gary Burr’s true story of his relationship with his father in what scholar Nadine Hubbs calls a “Three-Verse Life Cycle” country song that show’s the father’s unwavering dedication to the narrator. I won’t give away the story, but suffice it to say, give this a listen.