• Song of the Week: Bigger Fish To Fry

    Having decided in the last week to resume the actual purchase of CDs, it seems appropriate to once again resurrect the Pax Plena song of the week.

    Here to kick off the latest weekly installment, the song below appears courtesy of Brad Paisley’s newest album, 5th Gear.

    I’ll not scoop the song but it is hilarious (though the user video created below is only mildly amusing) and even tangentially dabbles in theology.

    My regular readers will surely appreciate the heretic in me. The practical minded among us might even call it the Gospel in a nut shell.

    Please enjoy Brad Paisley’s Bigger Fish to Fry. Lyrics follow after the jump.

    Bigger Fish to Fry

    I said a bad word when I was a kid.
    Mamma said that I’d be sorry for the sin that I did.
    My daddy whooped me and the
    preacher said shame.
    And I tried like hell to change.

    But I cuss,
    And I smoke,
    I laugh at dirty jokes.
    The minor vices, man I know ’em well.
    I’ve closed down bars.
    I’ve lusted in my heart.
    My exes think I oughta burn in hell.
    But the devil, he won’t notice when I die.
    Yeah, don’t you figure he’s got bigger fish to fry?

    Politicians taking pork barrel bribes.
    Crooked CEOs are getting off with no time.
    Christmas Eve burglars stealing good children’s toys.
    (Can’t say Christmas).
    Holiday burglars stealing good children’s toys.

    I cuss,
    I smoke,
    I laugh at dirty jokes.
    The minor vices, man I know ’em well.
    I’ve closed down bars (yeah, many a one).
    I’ve lusted in my heart.
    My ex thinks that I oughta burn in hell.
    But the devil, won’t even notice when I die. (bet he does)
    Yeah, don’t you figure he’s got bigger fish to fry?

    Serve em up!

    (instrumental)

    Yeah there’s gonna be bonfire burning
    An everlasting barbecue
    But with all the bad stuff going on,
    There ain’t gonna be room for me and you.

    (Chorus 2)
    ‘Cause we cuss,
    We smoke.
    We laugh at Tater’s jokes. (spoken)-> Tell one Jim.
    “You know you’re old when your wife says ‘honey let’s run upstairs and make love’ and your answer is ‘I cannot do both.’”
    The minor vices, man we know em well.
    We’ve closed down bars.
    We’ve lusted in our hearts.
    Our exes think we ougta burn in hell. (you got it wrong, it’s the other way round)
    But the devil, he won’t notice when we die.
    Hey, don’t you figure he’s got bigger fish to fry?
    Yeah don’t you figure he’s got bigger fish to fry?

    Pass the tartar sauce

    When we all get to heaven what a day of rejoicing it will be.

  • Song of the Week: White Christmas

    The sun is shinning the grass is green. The cacti and palm trees sway…

    Not exactly how the song goes. But the Tucson iteration of Beverly Hills & LA is pretty close and as frustrated ex-Northerners bemoan the lack of snow in warmer climes it becomes ever clear that Christmas is upon us.

    With thoughts of home and snow fresh on the mind, the Pax Plena song of the week will be no stranger to the holiday musicphiles among us. Yet, the history of Irving Berlin’s White Christmas may well be relegated to the dusty box of family ornaments and the ghosts of Christmas past. What follows is a brief primer on America’s most popular Christmas song.

    Interestingly, White Christmas actually has an Arizona connection which had previously escaped me. According to legend, Irving Berlin wrote the song poolside at the Arizona Biltmore Resort and Spa just up the road from here in Phoenix. As the song hit airwaves in 1942, America was well into a period of deep uncertainty. In November, of the same year the U.S. Navy suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Guadalcanal and gasoline rationing began as a result on the order’s of President Franklin D. Roosevelt back home. Suffice it to say, the backdrop for the inaugural performance of White Christmas in the film Holiday Inn was anything but auspicious.

    But there was something special about the song. Berlin’s initial assessment of his work turned out to be quite prescient- it was indeed the best song he had ever written. White Christmas would strike uniquely at the core of the American psyche, bringing with it all the charm and romance of the Christmas season to a Nation in more perilous a position than ever it had been since its founding. Released (perhaps not serendipitously) during the height of World War II, the song became a smashing hit with the American Armed Forces stationed overseas. The lyrics easily bring images of hearth and home to mind some sixty-five years later. It is difficult to apprehend their effect on American servicemen stationed in North Africa and Guadalcanal as the song made its way over the Armed Forces Radio Network. Suffice it to say, its success was nigh instantaneous.

    By all accounts, the most famous version of the song remains the original rendition done by Bing Crosby in 1942. Its release then was actually just prior to the Christmas season and the song would go on to spend some 11 weeks atop the charts. It would return to the top twice more becoming the sole song in American history to make #1 three different times. The Guinness Book of World Records honors its as the number one Christmas song of all time.

    Notably, while the 1942 version of the song features (arguably) the grandfather of the crooner generation, it does not feature the initial stanza originally written by Irving Berlin in the early 1940s. Both on the recording and in the movie in which it was initially introduced to American audiences, Bing Crosby sings only the chorus and leaves out the initial stanza. To provide its full effect, the complete lyrics appear in below. Legend has it, the initial stanza was set to poke fun at displaced northerns living in SoCal, once again proving that it is never a bad thing to make fun of Californians.

    Even so, whether home for you is Los Angelas, Boston or Walters, please enjoy the 1942 version of Bing Crosby’s White Christmas courtesy of Songza.com.

    http://songza.com/e/listen

    White Christmas

    The sun is shining
    The grass is green
    The orange and palm trees sway.
    I’ve never seen such a day
    In Beverly Hills LA.
    But it’s December the 24th
    And I am longing to be up North.

    I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
    Just like the ones I used to know.
    Where the treetops glisten,
    And children listen
    To hear sleigh bells in the snow.
    I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
    With every Christmas card I write.
    May your days be merry and bright.
    And may all your Christmases be white.

  • Song of the Week: The Biggest Lie

    A thousand apologies for those who have written to complain about the absence of songs of the week. Blame it on finals. As an act of obeisance, let me say that this week’s song of the week will not disappoint.

    I rarely buy songs on iTunes. Although with “one-click” shopping and Apple so willing to store my credit card information, one might wonder why not. Even so, when I heard the song which follows I was utterly haunted and compelled to make the purchase.

    By all accounts, today’s featured artist Elliott Smith was a troubled person. Born and raised across the U.S. but primarily hailing from Portland, Smith’s life was shrouded in addiction and depression. In turn, his melancholic lyrics aptly reflect the tortured mind of a troubled soul. What makes his style of music so captivating is the clear high-tenor of Smith’s voice coupled with an almost wispy style of delivery. If one listens late enough, Smith’s singing can be mistaken for errant thoughts passing through the shadows of mind.

    By way of introduction, some of you may recall Smith’s music as featured in the Robin Williams’ film Good Will Hunting. The Pax Plena song of the week is taken from Smith’s self-titled, 1995 album- dubbed by critic Rob O’Connor as “one of the most understated and incredible albums to emerge from the indie-rock scene in the 1990s.”

    Please enjoy, Elliott Smith’s The Biggest Lie.

    The Biggest Lie

    I’m waiting for the train
    The subway that only goes one way
    The stupid thing that will come to pull us apart
    And make everybody late
    You spent everything you had
    Wanted everything to stop that bad
    And now i’m a crushed credit card registered to smith
    Not the name that you call me with
    You turned white like a saint
    I’m tired of dancing on a pot of gold flake paint
    Oh we’re so very precious, you and i
    And everything that you do makes me want to die
    Oh i just told the biggest lie
    I just told the biggest lie
    The biggest lie

  • Song of the Week: Tennessee Waltz

    My thoughts seem to be oddly turned toward Nashville this week. This afternoon, I stumbled upon an old favorite introduced to me during my erstwhile days at Dartmouth. Norah Jones with her smooth vocals and dexterous piano playing couldn’t have performed the rendition of the song any better.

    Without further ado the Pax Plena song of the week is none other than Redd Stewart and Pee Wee King’s 1947 hit, the Tennessee Waltz as performed by Norah Jones. Lyrics follow. Enjoy!

    (Note: The Tennessee Waltz is in no way intended to be confused with the Tennessee Waltz sting operation which sent several top Volunteer State Democrats to prison)

    Tennessee Waltz
    As Performed by Norah Jones

    I was dancin’ with my baby to the Tennessee Waltz
    When an old friend I just happened to see
    I introduced her to my loved one
    And while they were dancin’
    My friend stole my sweetheart from me

    I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz
    And I knew just how much I had lost
    I have lost my little darlin’
    The night they were playing
    The beautiful Tennessee Waltz

    I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz
    And I knew just how much I had lost
    I have lost my little darlin’
    The night they were playing
    The beautiful beautiful Tennessee Waltz
    The Tennessee Waltz

  • Bluebird Cafe Gets New Owners

    Years ago, under happier circumstance, I had the chance to visit Nashville, TN and the Bluebird Cafe.

    Actually located closer to nearby Brentwood than Nashville, the Bluebird struck me as remarkable place precisely because it seemed so typical. Opened along a nondescript strip mall just off a major artery out of the city, the Bluebird boasted cramped tables, and only mediocre food. Not at all what one would expect from a famous restaurant.

    Of course, the real hallmark of the venue was its legend among country music artists. In many ways, the Bluebird Cafe is to country music what the Apollo Theater is to Jazz- an unexpected, musical sacred center.

    Opened in the early 1980s, the Bluebird Cafe quickly became home to a regular gathering of music artists who provided live music for the restaurant’s tiny stage. Eventually, some of these artists would go on to net major recording contracts with record labels across Music City. Famous names include song writing ace Paul Overstreet and country music legend Garth Brooks.

    The rest, as they say, is history. As a venue, the small cafe soon became a mainstay of country music lore.

    At any rate, I was saddened to learn a few months back that the cafe’s future was in jeopardy as its owners mulled retirement. Fortunately, news on the wires this week is that the cafe has earned a reprieve.

    [Link]

    According to the Tennessean, the cafe will be purchased by the Nashville Songwriters Association International and will remain in operation for years to come.