Editors of The Arts take great delight in being warm on the surface and just plain cruel underneath. Ask some of the Tribune`s entertainment writers. We give them a job–a dream job–and what do they do? Moan, moan, moan.
The idea was so simple, and so much fun. We told them to program their own Fantasy Jukebox, using whatever singles or album cuts they wanted. Any song. Virtually any recorded tune in the world. Wouldn`t you love to do that? Well, not our crew. ”You mean we can only choose 20 records? That`s all?” squealed pop critic Lynn Van Matre. (Hey, we had to cut the lists off somewhere, and 20 seemed about right to us.) ”That`s an unrealistic number,” comedy/jazz writer Larry Kart groused. Rock writer Tom Popson, on loan from the Friday section`s Insider, found the limitation ”next to impossible” and Richard Christiansen said he would do his best, ”but . . .”
OK, so maybe we felt a teensy bit guilty after all this blubbering–maybe 80 selections out of all the world`s recorded tunes is a bit skimpy–so we decided to expand. The editors asked four prominent local disc jockeys of wide-ranging tastes–WGN`s Wally Phillips, WGCI`s Tom Joyner, WJMK`s Ron Britain and WLUP`s Bobby Skafish–each to list 20 favorite tunes for their Fantasy Jukeboxes. Again the complaints. Moan, moan, moan.
But in the end, we got our selections. And an interesting batch they are. Curiously, at least three specific songs are mentioned on separate lists, and one group (guess who?) pops up four different times.
And then there are the bizarre entries. Ever heard of ”Mama Won`t Bark” ? How about ”Where`s Captain Kirk?”?
Hmmmm. Maybe we were too tough on them. . . .
THE CRITICS
TOM POPSON
Twenty songs from the whole of recorded-music history? C`mon. Any fantasy jukebox worth its salt should hold a minimum of 3,000 records. How can anything smaller begin to do justice to the last few decades? (A really top-notch fantasy jukebox would hold 5,000 records, dispense pizza by the slice and be shaped like a member of the Rockefeller family handing you a big check.)
Alas, it looks like we`re stuck with our pee-wee model (affectionately known around here as the Shrimpola), and its itsy-bitsy insides need filling, so here goes:
”Louie Louie,” the Kingsmen–One of the great garage-band tunes. But more than that, a song that has come to stand for looseness, loopiness, irreverence and good times–the very things that make life worth living.
”You Cheated,” the Shields–You could easily stock a Shrimpola entirely with doo-wop ballads. But if you have to pick just one, this is a good example of the genre, and it actually used the nonsense syllables ”doo wop.”
”The Jezebel Spirit,” David Byrne and Brian Eno–An exorcism set to hypnotic rhythms. Weird, slightly creepy and one of a kind.
”Slippin` and Slidin`,” Buddy Holly–If he had lived, Holly might have been one of pop music`s biggest stars ever. He left behind a lot of songs that have held up through the years–”Rave On,” ”Oh Boy,” ”Peggy Sue” and other Holly tunes would improve any jukebox in any era.
”Over in the Glory Land,” the Stanley Brothers–Bluegrass has a character all its own, simultaneously suggesting tenacity and toughness on the one hand, joy and exuberance on the other. A gospel number from two of the best bluegrass practitioners, Ralph and Carter Stanley.
”Back in `72,” Bob Seger–Terrific straightforward rock and roll from the time before Seger became a commercial giant.
”Life During Wartime,” the Talking Heads–One of the more mainstream numbers from one of pop`s most inventive bands.
”I`m a King Bee,” Slim Harpo–Down-and-nasty R&B, and a good example of the decades of tip-toeing pop music has done around a certain topic. ”Well, I`m a king bee,” sings Slim. ”Can buzz all night long.” Yes, you just can`t say pollination.
”There`s Something on Your Mind (Part 2),” Bobby Marchan–Remember those grab-a-hankie romantic-tragedy songs like ”Teen Angel” and ”Tell Laura I Love Her”? Well, here`s the Urban Realist version. After discovering his girl is messing around with other guys, the protagonist goes down to the pawnshop, buys a pistol and begins dispatching folks, including his socially active sweetheart. Part recitation, part soulful R&B singing.
”Down in the Bottom,” Howlin` Wolf–A voice that could cut right through you. One of the best from a master bluesman.
”Mystery Train,” Elvis Presley–From that brief, shining and very exciting time when Elvis was still playing pure rockabilly and had yet to become a movie-soundtrack star.
”I`m Waiting for the Man,” Velvet Underground–You`ve heard it said before. You`ll hear it said again. This band was way ahead of its time.
”I Put a Spell on You,” Screamin` Jay Hawkins–One of the craziest, most demented vocals recorded in any style of pop music anywhere, anytime.
”Martian Hop,” the Ran-Dells–Every jukebox needs a lighthearted novelty number. Here`s a goofy, catchy tune about alien life forms who traversed the vastnesses of space and, bless their little phasers, wound up learning all the latest Earth dances.
”Pinhead,” the Ramones–Every jukebox needs a song that addresses social concerns.
”Lola,” the Kinks–I`ve heard it a zillion times. You`ve heard it a zillion times. But it`s still fun to sing along.
”Teenage Head,” the Flamin` Groovies–One of the best of the teen-anthem songs about adolescence. ”I`m a monster/ Got a revved-up teenage head.”
”Stand on My Own Two Knees,” George Jones–Arguably the best male country singer. The song is a splendid example of the sad situations found in country music. His woman had him crawling. Now, while he`s not quite walking tall, he has, as the title indicates, made great progress.
”Sure `Nuff `n Yes I Do,” Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band–Great, gritty music from one of rock`s originals.
”Boomerang,” Don Leady, Evan Johns, Frankie Camaro, Denny Freeman–A track from ”Trash, Twang and Thunder: Big Guitars From Texas,” a 1985 instrumentals-only album featuring various Texas-based rock `n` rollers. All- American rock in the grand tradition of guitar-instrumental acts like Duane Eddy and the Rockin` R`s.
LYNN VAN MATRE
My fantasy juke box would have to accommodate albums, since few of the following songs were released as singles. And, as long as it`s fantasy time, why couldn`t that juke box stretch to fit in 100 or so songs? Selecting 20 tunes out of the dozens that come to mind is a nearly impossible task, and paring this list to fit the editors` miserly specifications was downright painful.
Nevertheless, the songs that follow are–in no particular order–the ones that I have played again and again and continue to love for a variety of reasons:
”Helpless,” Neil Young–Young at his most emotionally evocative, singing about the ”changes” he chronicles so well.
”Biko,” Peter Gabriel–A haunting, hypnotic ”message” song that makes its point without being preachy.
”Touch the Hem of His Garment,” Sam Cooke–Known primarily for his soul/pop hits, Cooke was also a highly affecting gospel artist.
”I Wanna Be Your Dog,” Iggy Pop–Pop, the prototypical punk artist, at his most primitive.
”My Blue Ridge Mountain Boy,” Dolly Parton–One of Parton`s most poignant, from the days before she slicked up her sound to make a play for the pop crowd.
”One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later),” Bob Dylan–Nearly all of the songs on the two albums that comprise Dylan`s ”Blond on Blond” are memorable, this one casts a particularly atmospheric spell.
”Heroin,” the Velvet Underground–Powerful stuff from one of the most influential, ahead-of-their-time rock bands ever, with Lou Reed`s monotone vocals adding to the impact.
”Bird on the Wire,” Leonard Cohen–Vintage angst from one of pop`s most poetic singer-songwriters.
”For You,” Bruce Springsteen–Reflections on a relationship, related in tumbling metaphors, from Springsteen`s early days as a folkrocker.
”The Weight,” the Band–Robbie Robertson once told me he wrote this enigmatic song about the ”burden of sainthood.” Whatever lies behind it, it`s a classic example of the Band`s unique brand of rural soulfulness.
”Coyote,” Joni Mitchell–The self-obsession that characterizes much of Mitchell`s music can be wearying; so can her extremely stylized delivery. But this tale of an improbable romance on the road is loaded with breezy charm.
”Sultans of Swing,” Dire Straits–Mark Knopfler`s rough voice and distinctive guitar work and a rippling rhythm section make this one memorable. ”The Killing Moon,” Echo & the Bunnymen–Hypnotic song of ritualistic foreboding by the psychedelic-tinged British band.
”Long Arm,” Wall of Voodoo–One of the quirkier bands to come along, this now-defunct California band sometimes managed to be alienated and humorous at the same time, as in this song about a company where employees
”break their backs for Big Talk.”
”It Dread Inna Inglan,” Linton Kwesi Johnson–Chilling, militant reggae from a Jamaican-born poet, now living in England, who sets his chanted patois about British racial strife to a reggae beat.
”I Don`t Think Much About Her No More,” Mickey Newbury–A moving country-folk song about a past love from a fine singer-songwriter who remains better known as a composer than as a solo artist.
”Many Rivers to Cross,” Jimmy Cliff–He`s best known as a reggae singer, but Cliff`s deep roots in rhythm and blues are apparent on this soulful cry of the heart.
”Once in a Lifetime,” Talking Heads–Catchy rhythms and colorful imagery by one of pop`s more inventive bands.
”Road Runner,” Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers–Richman, pop`s perennial adolescent, sometimes comes across as an example of arrested development, but his exuberance serves him in good stead on this joyously infectious paean to driving along with the radio on.
”I`ve Had Her,” Phil Ochs–Best known as a protest singer, folksinger Ochs was also capable of some fine poetic ballads; this is one of them.
RICHARD CHRISTIANSEN
These 20 selections are songs I`ve enjoyed dozens of times before and will enjoy dozens of times again. There are few masterpieces on the list, but, as Lesley Gore says, in my 21st choice, ”It`s My Party”:
”The Grand Tour,” George Jones–The maestro of country soul slides his voice, edged with whiskey and weariness, through a tearful, room-by-room tour of ”the lonely house that once was home sweet home.” Classic corn.s
”Jesus Dropped the Charges,” the O`Neal Twins–Gospel at its buoyant peak, as Eddie and Edgar O`Neal, their spirits soaring, lift their voices in jubilation, likening salvation to a last-minute acquittal. ”Case dismissed, case dismissed, saved by grace.” Amen. Thank you, Jesus.
”The Varsity Drag,” Les Elgart–Classic big band bounce. Even people who can`t dance should be moved by the brassy urgency of this arrangement.
”Tradition,” from ”Fiddler on the Roof”–Every time I listen to this tremendous opening number, I relive the joy of seeing Zero Mostel and company sing and dance their celebration of the life-giving values of their heritage. ”Swingin` Down the Lane,” Frank Sinatra–Recorded in the `50s, with its nice `n` easy Nelson Riddle arrangement, this relaxed, delicately phrased rendition of the old Isham Jones-Gus Kahn ballad is the single best song in the single best album of the singer`s career, ”Songs for Swingin` Lovers.”
”Prisoners of Love,” from ”The Producers”–This closing chorale is not as famous as ”Springtime for Hitler,” from the same Mel Brooks movie, but whenever I hear Zero Mostel shout to his fellow convicts, ”Sing it out, men! We open in Leavenworth on Saturday night!”, I laugh and sing along with them.
”Downtown,” Petula Clark–The irresistible siren song of bright lights, movie shows and good times, with Clark gloriously belting out her urgent invitation to ”listen to the music of the traffic in the city.”
”All that Jazz,” Chita Rivera–This John Kander-Fred Ebb song is the initial salvo in the frontal attack of theatrical fireworks created by director Bob Fosse for the musical ”Chicago.” It`s bold, cynical and catchy, and Rivera sings her socks off.
”Hello, Mary Lou. Goodbye, Heart,” Rick Nelson–There are several versions of this prime bit of rockabilly, but the performance recorded live at the Troubador club in Los Angeles conveys a palpable pleasure in performing.
”Calendar Girl,” Neil Sedaka–Terrific, simple-minded fun, and a great party song, as Sedaka counts the ways he loves his teen queen every month of the year.
”Your Song,” Elton John–An early, unaffected John hit, with the composer-singer giving such a natural, poignant reading of Bernie Taupin`s finely crafted lyrics that the song seems to come directly from the heart.
”Broadway Melody,” Charles King–The tinny, distant recording of the Arthur Freed-Nacio Herb Brown song from the first Academy Award-winning musical adds to the nostalgia of this little gem. ”A million lights shine brighter there, a million hearts beat faster there . . . that`s my Broadway melody.”
”Yesterday,” Paul McCartney–Among all the Beatles songs, without which no fantasy jukebox would be complete, this lovely poem, performed with chamber music classicism, is essential. There`s not a false line or note in it.
”Don`t Cry for Me, Argentina,” from the Spanish production of
”Evita”–The English musical never seems more authentic or overwhelming than when it is sung in Spanish, with a magnificent chorus and Paloma San Basilio as Evita.
”Swanee,” Judy Garland–From her triumphant Carnegie Hall concert, with exhilaration and excitement vibrant in every note. Conveys, as no other recording ever has for me, the immediate thrill of in-person performance.
”What I Did for Love,” from ”A Chorus Line,” Priscilla Lopez–The song that best summarizes the spirit of this great American backstage musical, sung with all-out intensity by Lopez and the cast.
”American Pie,” Don McLean–I still haven`t figured out what everything in the lyrics mean, but I know that the emotions of longing and regret tapped in this brilliant folk-rock song are real and deep.
”La Goulante du Pauvre Jean,” Edith Piaf–Forget the English version, known as ”The Poor People of Paris.” Listen to the sublime Piaf sing it in French, her clarion delivery making it carefree and heartbreaking at the same moment.
”So Long! Oo-Long!” and ”My Sunny Tennessee,” from ”Three Little Words”–Fred Astaire and Red Skelton, two very skillful non-singers, in a charming mini-medley of old-fashioned songs by Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby, from a delightful little MGM musical.
”Sail Away,” Randy Newman–Beautiful melody and mordant, witty lyrics from one of the most literate writers and distinctive performers on the pop music scene.
LARRY KART
For me, a jukebox is a mood machine, and this one is located in a room where moods really matter–a dimly lit, 3 a.m. kind of place, where romantic dreams hang heavy in the air.
Dancing is permitted but not that common; and when it does occur, the couples seem eager to move on to an even more intimate venue. So the moods for the most part are pensive and mellow, and the music is mostly jazz, with some standards and blues thrown in for good measure.
Important, too, because I`m not the only one feeding the machine, is the compatibility factor. You could segue from any record to any other and still keep the basic groove:
”You`ve Changed,” Billie Holiday–Late Billie with strings in a heartbreakingly tender perfomance.
”Struttin` With Some Barbecue,” Louis Armstrong–The 1938 big-band version. Armstrong`s final three choruses should make the most morose loser feel like he`s ready to rejoin the human race.
”Just Friends,” Charlie Parker with Strings–Another explosion of pure joy, this was Parker`s favorite recorded solo.
”The Girl I Love, She Got Long Curly Hair,” Sleepy John Estes–The primal pulse of mandolinist Yank Rachel and pianist Jab Jones back Estes`
haunting, blues-drenched voice.
”Canadian Sunset,” Gene Ammons–Blue Gene switches back and forth from a Latin groove to straightahead swing and builds a perfect solo.
”Lover,” Tony Bennett–Only Bennett seems to know that this much-abused song has to be literally whispered if it`s going to work.
”Have You Met Miss Jones,” Art Tatum and Ben Webster–After Tatum`s astonishing flow of ideas, you think there`s nothing more to be said; and then Webster`s tenor saxophone glides in to state the simple truth.
”Cherry Red,” Big Joe Turner–”You can take me, pretty baby,” shouts Big Joe, ”chunk me in your Hollywood bed, and Eagle Rock me, baby, till my face turns cherry red.”
”Autumn Leaves,” Miles Davis and Cannonball Adderley–Davis is tightly muted and lyrical, Adderley is gorgeously overripe, and Hank Jones turns his piano into a celeste.
”My Funny Valentine,” Chet Baker and Gerry Mulligan–If James Dean had played the trumpet, this is how he would have sounded.
”I Want a Little Girl,” Lester Young and the Kansas City Five–Young`s clarinet solo may be the most perfect melody ever created.
”Little Rootie Tootie,” Thelonious Monk–A happy, toylike train song, full of Monk`s bent logic.
”A House Is Not a Home,” Sarah Vaughan–If this one won`t heal you, nothing will.
”I Pity the Fool,” Bobby Bland–It`s finger-pointing time in the realm of doomed romance, and Bland is going down slow.
”Finesse,” Django Reinhardt–After Rex Stewart and Barney Bigard serenade the blues, Reinhardt`s guitar makes time stand still.
”Early Autumn,” Woody Herman–A lovely song, topped off by Stan Getz`
justfiably famous solo.
”Perdido Street Blues,” New Orleans Wanderers–Clarinetist Johnny Dodds chants the truth.
”Stardust,” Artie Shaw–Three perfect romantic poems in row, from trumpeter Billy Butterfield, Shaw and trombonist Jack Jenny.
”The Sergeant Was Shy,” Duke Ellington–A little tango and some French perfume, all wrapped up in a fantasy on ”Bugle Call Rag.”
”In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning,” Frank Sinatra–If you`ve got one to go to, it`s time to go home.
