The 2 Walls iPod Playlist
December 15, 2005

In case you weren’t aware – another music revolution has begun. If you live in Idaho or Montana or are Lost on some uncharted island in the pacific then you have an excuse. But if you walk the streets of New York, Boston or Chicago you can’t miss it. Every other person you pass on the street is plugged in. Those trademark white earphones are attached to an iPod. I’m a bit late – but I’m here – I’m part of the revolution.

The revolution isn’t about the iPod though. It isn’t about the earphones or the technology or even the concept of portable music. After all – Walkmans have been around for years.

It’s about the music. It’s about discovering new music and rediscovering old music. It’s about taking your entire life collection of music – be it 10 years or 50 years – and sticking it in your back pocket. But most of all its about our individual control over our music. No longer are we slaves to the whims of aging radio DJs, or to the 45-minute album. We can listen to anything and everything. We can be our own commercial-free radio station and listen to only the music we want to listen to. It's freedom.

Radio should be scared.

We've put together a playlist compiled by the 2 Walls staff that shows the diversity of possibilities for your iPod. I love the mix of the old and the new. This is what the iPod was invented for. (Well, this, and to make Apple truckloads of money.) Enjoy! – Michael Walls

"Rock and Roll" – Velvet Underground by Michael Walls The first five notes of “Rock and Roll” always brings a smile to my face. I remember the first time I heard it – about 15 years after it was released. I was in a band in college and someone suggested we play it. I couldn’t believe I had never heard it before then. There was something so surreal about the simplicity of the music conflicting with the somberness of the lyrics. And of course with the unique vocal delivery of Lou Reed – soothing the complexities of life with “...and it was all right” you couldn’t help but believe it was. I always wonder what other people’s first reaction was, or would be, to this song.

"Gloria" – Them (featuring Van Morrison) by Michael Walls Them and Van Morrison were to the British invasion of the 60s what Nirvana and Kurt Cobain were to the grunge movement of the 90s. Maybe not with the equivalent commercial success and the frenzyness of Nirvana – but in terms of an unheard style and amount of influence on future bands. On “Gloria” you hear the style of music that The Doors would eventually take to the masses – a simplistic 3-chord guitar, bass, and drum tune with haunting church organ riffs in the background. But “Gloria” is all about Morrison’s singing. A loud, hacking, raspy shout – like some 75-year old Cajun blues singer from deep in the bayou. But the thing that sticks out on “Gloria” for me is the drumming that changes about midway through the song. The music gets quiet and it’s mostly just Morrison’s voice, building to a climax – when the drummer hits (what sounds like) a trash can lid – twice. Wack, wack! Then Van starts screaming “Gloria!” and the drummer goes nuts. It sounds like a deranged monkey pounding on a hundred trash cans! It's an amazing piece of drumming. I must have heard this song a thousand times and never really noticed this until I started listening to it with my iPod.

"Good Friday" – Cowboy Junkies by Michael Walls Most of the Cowboy Junkies' music paints Midwestern landscapes that make you yearn for wide open spaces and long, lonely roads. But on “Good Friday” there’s something extra peaceful and soothing. While the music starts off as a single plucking guitar, it slowly builds to a swirling aural landscape with Margo Timmins’ angelic voice floating lyrics like, “Sat at my window, watched the world wake up this morning, purple sky slowing turning golden.” Margo’s voice can melt your soul. But the most driving, yet subtle force behind this song (and many other Junkies songs) is the use of a harmonica. You won’t notice when the harmonica starts, but you eventually realize its there, and can’t miss it as everything else fades, leaving the last few notes to its solemn sound.

"No. 13 Baby" – The Pixies by Michael Walls The Pixies’ entire musical style can be encapsulated by this one song from Doolittle. “No. 13 Baby” starts off like many Pixies tunes – with a strange, off-key guitar chord, followed by a thumping bass and Frank Black’s squealing vocals spewing out nonsensical gibberish. The effect for most accidental listeners is to skip ahead to the next song. The first two minutes of "No. 13 Baby" are energizing pulses of guitar feedback, vocal yelps and throbbing bass lines, all building to a Frank Black piercing scream. But underneath, you hear quick moments of melodic sweetness – a foreshadowing of what’s to come. After Frank collapses from vocal exhaustion, the wall of guitar noise falls away with him and we are left with a pulsating bass riff – with simple drum and strumming guitar accents. Eventually, Joey Santiago’s guitar pokes it’s head out with a couple of tweaks, then hurls into a brief, Neil Young-like, squelching solo, leveling out into an amazing harmonic hook – that could go on forever. It’s like something out of a dream or a movie, and I wish I had the technology to loop those final two minutes into an endless, hypnotic pop symphony.

"The Predatory Wasp Of the Palisades Is Out To Get Us!" – Sufjan Stevens by Matthew Scrivner Although many people accuse Steven's most recent album Illinoise of being too sugary, too full of the prozac-induced "twee" of bands like Polyphonic Spree there is something to be said about listening to a song that has the noticable effect of brightening your day. This song in particular is one of the strongest of the release, balancing the gentle folk sound of his previous albums like Seven Swans with the enchanting choir singing, and the orchestrated classical elements borrowed from Philip Glass and Steve Reich. Combined, you get the completed formula for warmth, grace, and triumphant joy. I cannot listen to this song without having a smile creep slowly across my face.

"Little Plastic Castle" – Ani DiFranco by Matthew Scrivner For me this is Ani at her best. There's no indignant political message here, no angry feminism. Ok, so maybe a little of both, yes, but it's not as in-your-face or as indignant as she can get. This song is more just Ani's cheerful humor about what it's like to be human. It's got crisp acoustic guitar and horns! The wonderful blasting cheer of horns!

"Güero Canelo (live)" – Calexico by Matthew Scrivner Although we lucky Tucson residents have known about the brilliance of Calexico for some time, they are finally getting the attention they deserve having co-written an album with Sam Beam of Iron and Wine. This song, named after a hot-dog stand in the barrio south of town, showcases the talent the band has at merging disparate musical genres like salsa, dub, and alt-country into a spicy mix of tunage. The studio version of this song is available on their album Feast of Wire or the soundtrack to the film Collateral, but I recommend going to www.archive.org and dowloading a live version of it since it's longer, more intense, and the trumpet solos are HOT!

"Federica" – Do Make Say Think by Matthew Scrivner DMST is the best of the post-rock genre – they're warmer that Godspeed!, more accessible than Silver Mt. Zion, and yet somehow more complex and thoughtful than Mogwai, Terentel, or even Explosions In the Sky. This nine-minute gem builds slowly toward an intense crescendo, helped at around the four-minute mark by horns that fade softly into the song until they become a blast of support for the focusing intensity of the guitar and drums. This is the song I play for people who claim that post-rock is too pretentious to prove to them that it has a right to be.

"Parasite" – Nick Drake by Matthew Scrivner This song is best for night driving, and I prefer it to the ubiquitous Pink Moon which got sort of ruined for me when it started being used in a Volkswagen commercial. Here the Beatles-like diminishing chord progression, mixed with Drake's gentle, smooth voice makes an infinitely grinnable and calm evening. Roll down the windows and let the crisp wind complete it.

"Whenever You're On My Mind" – Marshall Crenshaw by Brendon McCullin Early ‘80’s tunesmith Crenshaw has been largely forgotten, but the guy sure knows how to craft a pop song.  The one time “Beatlemania” cast member never shies away from the influence of early Lennon-McCartney and his songs tend towards the 3-minute pop confection variety.  On this minor hit Crenshaw layers some jangly guitar over a heavy backbeat and then mixes in some dreamy lyrics.  He manages to make a song about daydreaming of the person you love without being at all sappy and that’s more rare than true love.

"Here Comes My Baby" – The Mavericks by Brendon McCullin It’s a Tex-Mex neo-country band covering a tune by a mediocre ‘60’s group (The Tremeloes) that was written by an easy listening icon (Cat Stevens).  The Mavericks put some oomph into the song that the original lacked and singer Raul Malo gives it his best rave-up reading.  The band’s country-pop by way of The Tijuana Brass arrangement practically insists on foot tapping and the shots of horns make sure that your attention doesn't stray.  It’s hard to imagine Cat Stevens interpreting his own song in quite this way, but that’s the beauty of music – there’s always a different way to attack a good song.

"I Don’t Know Why (aka Don’t Know Why I Love You)" – The Rolling Stones by Mike Webb I picked this song up on the Stones’ Singles Collection box set and never really thought twice about it. Then when I loaded it into iTunes and my iPod, I wondered how the hell I could’ve ever overlooked it because it’s truly brilliant. It starts with a slow, picked guitar part that gives it a real soul/gospel feel. Then the strum is pure Keith Richards – around the beat, with a stop-start that opens it up for Charlie to accent the one. The whole band joins in and starts rocking out while Mick whines about a girl mistreating him (poor, sad Mick). I would’ve guessed that it was a b-side or outtake from Their Satanic Majesties… because it’s got a clavinet on it and sounds a bit pseudo-psychedelic. But in looking it up, I found out it came from my favorite Stones period – the Beggars Banquet/Let It Bleed sessions. Which sort of answers why I love it so much. But then I noticed that the songwriting credit went to Stevie Wonder & crew and that completely explains it. To be the “world’s greatest band” you have to steal from good sources, and the Stones certainly did the job here.

"Miss You IV" – The Rolling Stones by Mike Webb So everyone knows “Miss You” from Some Girls. But when the Stones released the horrible live Flashpoint album, Columbia Records added a limited edition promo CD (called Collectibles) which has a few really great songs. One of which is possibly a remix of “Miss You”, but more likely an unedited version that clocks in at 8 minutes 36 seconds. I consider myself a bit of a Stones-ologist (though the above song review shows you I’m not), but I’m virtually certain the album version was chopped up from this version which has more of everything – a longer breakdown, longer harmonica solos, a different bass line during the “extended” parts, a short guitar lead and more fucking groove. Most of it is in the same sequence as the popular version, but there are a few variations, but not in the repetitive, extended 12” way. It really makes you wonder why they didn’t release this because it’s far superior to the shortened version most people are familiar with. (Just to prove I’m not crazy, I checked out the song review on AllMusic.com and they write, “The album version is a concise version of other run-throughs which, as heard on extended mixes [by Bob Clearmountain] and bootlegs, have Jagger vamping more and coming up with different lyrics as he sing-speaks.”)

"Jump On Top Of Me" – The Rolling Stones by Mike Webb You wouldn’t think that any Stones song recorded after 1977 was worth mentioning, and frankly, since this was recorded in 1994 when the band was – let’s say less vital – it normally wouldn’t be either. But since the boys didn’t included it on its intentioned Voodoo Lounge album, it’s worth noting because it’s a simple loose groove that has missteps and mistakes and Keith’s fingerprints all over it. It’s a plain riff in E that Keef seems to never play the same way twice. Mick slurs something about getting laid. Wyman is gone so Darryl Jones or Don Was gets to work out the bottom end. Woodie gets to play tons of slide, and you can tell Charlie is looking over at Keith as if to say “is this where the change comes in?” Mick actually ups the ante when he switches from a bass vocal to a higher range halfway through. No it’s not in their top 100 songs, but considering when it was created, it’s nice to know a straight-ahead rock song was still in them.

"I Wanna Be Your Man" – The Rolling Stones by Mike Webb The best way to compare the Beatles and Stones is to look at one particular song they both recorded. John and Paul wrote “I Wanna Be Your Man,” a happy and peppy and harmless sounding love song that sounded more like they were trying to get the girl to hold their hand even though they sang “I wanna be your lover baby.” Ringo has the lead and Paul tries to showoff by singing a sweet harmony vocal. The Stones, on the other hand, start off with a piercing distorted guitar that announces their intentions are not good or friendly. Instead of a bounce, they speed their way through it so it’s more like a Chuck Berry song with a screaming guitar solo. And Jagger is virtually foaming at the mouth, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible so he can get down to business. There’s no doubt the Stones wiped the Beatles up with their version. And there can be no doubt which band truly was the world’s greatest rock’n’roll band.

"A Hard Day's Night" – The Beatles by David Brown After many years of study and careful observation, I have determined for myself what people have been telling me all my life: The Beatles were the best there ever was. Don’t get it? You will, but you’ll have to do some listening. For me, it was “A Hard Day’s Night.” Actually, it was about two dozen different songs, but let’s pretend it was this one in particular. First, well, there’s that first note, a chord actually. Apparently it’s an open chord on a traditionally tuned guitar, but I don’t know. (It’s a G7add9sus4, but whether or not that’s an open chord is beyond me.) Whoever thought to start a song with a lone dissonant chord? That’s the tiny little moment of genius you hear in damn near every tune attributed to Lennon & McCartney. “Hard Day’s Night” is a typical early composition: the more soulful Lennon pens the verses, while the more musically skilled McCartney writes the bridge, mixing in just the right fancy minor and seventh chords to create drama, movement, tension and, inevitably, that perfect resolution right back into the chorus. You instinctually shake your head as if a moptop rested upon it. For one split second, you understand exactly what was taking place in 1961 at the Cavern in Liverpool or the Kaiserkeller in Hamburg. This is rock and roll. And if you listen closely, you might even hear a little cowbell. Damn, I’ve got a FEVER.

"Empty Pages" – Traffic by David Brown Steve Winwood had himself a damn fine career. Underrated – if you ask me. He’s sort of the Clapton of keyboards; their careers paralleled each other, both managed to move from band to band, always seeming to be right where the action was, and they both came out of the 80s unscathed, for the most part. Winwood played on one of the biggest British invasion tunes of the ‘60s with the Spencer Davis Group, “Gimme Some Lovin’.” He played with Clapton in Blind Faith, and he fronted Traffic, a groovy ‘70s prog-rock outfit capable of greatness when they weren’t trying to reinvent the wheel. And he had a nice middle-aged-guy career, highlighted by "Back in the High Life Again" – remember, that guy was all over the radio in 1986. Of course, Winwood may have been doomed from the start because of all the Ray Charles comparisons. But he does have a great voice, and he can play some piano and organ. “Empty Pages” from John Barleycorn Must Die is a great example of how this band could perform when they weren’t fiddling with wah-wah sax solos and psychedelic imagery.

"Freddy Freeloader" – Jon Hendricks and Friends by David Brown This is a Miles Davis song that legendary jazz vocalist Jon Hendricks transcribed, note-for-note, wrote lyrics for and recorded with an all-star lineup of vocalists singing the various parts and solos. Each solo is sung note-for-note as it was originally recorded on Kind of Blue. It is astounding. Bobby McFerrin sings the piano solo, originally played on Kind of Blue by Wynton Kelly. McFerrin is probably the only vocalist who could mimic the broad range of a piano so expertly. You have to be able to jump octaves at a time, and he makes it sound easy. Al Jarreau takes the Miles solo. I’ve never been a big Al Jarreau fan (is anybody?), but this performance lets him shine. Miles Davis was never a technically brilliant soloist. But what he lacked in chops he made up for in tone, almost singing his notes through his trumpet. Jarreau’s style fits nicely with Miles’ solo, and he sings each note the way Miles played it. It’s even better than the Moonlighting Theme. Next comes the Coltrane solo, and Jon Hendricks takes it himself. This was right at the time when Coltrane was really taking off as an inventive soloist, and the contrast between his and Miles’ solo is like night and day. The fact that Hendricks sings it, words and all, is insane. It’s just a freakshow. The last solo is George Benson doing Cannonball Adderley. Adderley gets lost in the shadow of Coltrane in this group, and it’s too bad, because he was great soloist. This one is much more standard blues fare, but it’s wonderfully done by Benson. This interpretation of “Freddy” really changed the way I listen to the original. Brilliant!

"So Much Things To Say" – Bob Marley by David Brown ’t that he died young; it’s that Legend is the only music most people ever hear from him. I do happen to appreciate a good greatest hits album, and Legend is as good as you’ll find. But because it’s standard issue at every freshman dorm in the free world, the songs that appear on the album, good as they are, are burned into our ears to the point of losing meaning. Do yourself a favor and buy another Marley album – a real album – and listen to the whole thing. And not on that shitty boom box you had in college but on a real stereo or with a good set of headphones. Take Exodus, for example. Listen and appreciate how much is going on in each song and how it all gels together brilliantly. Marley, because he IS reggae, often gets lost in the shuffle during discussions of the greatest pop-rock acts. He belongs near the top of any list of the best of the best and not relegated to the World Music bin. “So Much Things to Say” could be any number of other songs. It just happened to jump out at me. And it’s not on Legend.

"Shadows in the Rain" – Sting by David Brown When Sting left the Police and started work on his first solo album, he assembled what may have been the greatest band ever to play on a rock record. With Bring on the Night, he caught lightening in a bottle with a bunch of jazz musicians. Sting was already a brilliant songwriter with a jazz sensibility. So he hired Branford Marsalis, Kenny Kirkland, Daryl Jones and Omar Hakim to play behind his vocals and occasional guitar. All these guys played with Miles Davis, so you KNOW they can play. The rhythm section of Hakim and Jones had a more straight-ahead approach to bass and drums and formed the foundation that allowed Marsalis and Kirkland to stretch out a bit without them hijacking the project. This album could have ended up in pseudo-jazz hell. “Shadows in the Rain” cooks like a jazz song and a rock song at the same time. It’s an old Police number that never sounded so good. Hakim’s drumming on this song was the reason I convinced my dad to buy me and my brother a $150 set of used drums. I used to blast this song from a tiny boom box and bang away on those drums to it in my basement. Try doing that with “Fields of Gold.”