Radio Free Pennington 2012

Nestled somewhere between the last few scraps of Halloween booty and the ever increasing ads for Black Friday, there's a dark nagging feeling. That's right, the year will be over soon and all the things we're supposed to do will quickly fade into the things we forgot only to be washed, rinsed and repeated.

About this time last year, I did my year in review with bullet reviews. Designed as a mental exercise, I wanted to see what happened when I limited myself to smaller word counts. This year, I'm going to try working with larger pieces with an eye toward more expressiveness and larger themes to the music I've spent this year listening to.

We'll see how it goes.

In any event, happy holidays to those of you tuned in, tuning in or just stumbling in by accident.

First up, Give You the Ghost by Polica. I was kidnapped for my bachelor party earlier this year and spent the whole car ride up to Denver announcing that this was the only band I wanted to see this year, chance permitting. Like an asshole, I didn't realize their tour ended in Denver and tickets were mere seats away from me. Thanks, guys.

just another apocalyptic love song

this picture was a wedding present from future collaborator tj.

our upcoming project is one i have mentioned before that involves space pirates, space zombies, space pirate zombies, quantum suicide, the kuiper belt and two girls named mary jane and molly. all things being what they are, in my head it still works out as a love story so big we have to destroy and rebuild the universe to do it properly. or, as ed harcourt might put it, it's "an apocalyptic love song."

when i asked tj if there was anything he wanted to draw, he replied with "smoke and explosions." ...well, jeepers, if you gotta twist my arm.

it's currently scribbled into all my various notebooks as revolver but i think i'm going to save that title for a different project. other possibilities include the space john b soars again, the final ballad of mary jane and molly and the infinite problems with zip.

...i'm certain something better will pop up.

return of the ronin

yes. i've been away. adventures were had. whiskey was drunk.

and like many adventurers, i return with an asian wifey in tow.
words will be posted soon. in the meantime, i hang my head in shame as this place has gone to the cats. and who knows what kitteh haz been downloading...

Digby- International Man of Mystery

I understand that I've been away for a while now. All apologies and respect due, I've undertaken an immense project in the personal arena of my life. It's put a lot of my other priorities back just a bit but, ultimately, it should prove to be hugely gratifying. I may write about it later. I may not. If I don't, I don't think anyone will suffer for it.

In the meantime, I want to spend a moment discussing one of my favorite people: Digby Wolfe. Digby was a co-creator for Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In. He once opened for the Beatles as a standup comic. He wrote for everyone from Bill Cosby to Bob Hope. He had a tense standoff with a well meaning redneck in Texas at the height of the Vietnam War. He was also a professor for many years at UNM. As such, for the better part of eight years, off and on, he was my mentor.

Digby passed away in the last few months. I'm only now at the point where I can be coherent about the joy he brought to my life (and many, many others).

I'm not sure that it's fair to blame Digby for the writer that I turned out to be. But he certainly taught me just about everything I needed to know about crafting stories. The few (and I mean feeewwww) things he didn't teach me, he certainly put me on the road to discovery. The first day of the last course I ever took with him, he asked me to open up shop by sharing a few words about writing with my new classmates. It was the kindest of gestures and to this day, still means the world to me. I covered a few of these points but, really, this is what I wish I had said.

1.Keep a notebook/pen with you or be prepared to dictate/type thoughts and ideas to your phone. Lightning in a bottle is lightning in a bottle. You catch it when its there or regret it later.

2.Be open to inspiration. It’s everywhere. That older couple passive aggressively arguing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store? They were young once and made decisions that brought them to this point and who knows, their story now may be more interesting.

3.Write everyday. Treat your brain like a muscle. It needs the discipline and responds well to routine. One hour is a nice round number, but treat that as a minimum. Even if you're just sitting there staring at a blank screen, you still put the time in.

4.Don’t suffer in silence. When you’re stuck, it helps to talk it out with others- even to just blow off steam. As such, workshops and roundtables are golden opportunities. Never take that for granted.

5.The difference between comedy and tragedy is the speed at which you tell the story. Nothing is sacred. Additionally, there is no such thing as victimless comedy. Somebody always has to pay. If there’s no victim there’s probably no funny.




Thanks a million, Diggers. You were a true original.

Clear Heart Full Eyes by Craig Finn

When Craig Finn sings "I suppose you thought I'd be gushing blood" in "No Future," I have a small confession to make: yes, the thought had occurred to me. As the singer/lyricist for the Hold Steady, Finn's had the better part of five albums to perfect his vision of the car wrecks, brain injuries and hot messes that litter post Meth Lab America. That vision, fueled by beer and punk, has always sounded like an epic Steinbeckian narrative that just happens to touch down on the Replacements as often as Springsteen. Here, that epic boozy swagger has been slowed down and, as a result, the songs probably share more with Neil Young and his Stray Gators (see Harvest and it's sequel Harvest Moon).

Slowing the beat down does little to diminish the potency of Finn's self destructive protagonists, though. Instead, there is an innate sadness on display here and it betrays what would almost surely be the heart of a joke in the blustery hands of the Hold Steady. By allowing the comedic to fester into the tragic, Finn has effectively portrayed his characters as "rotten and bruised- the soft part of the fruit."

And what sad, bittersweet fruit it is. "Apollo Bay" opens the album with a Harvest era Neil Young flavor. Lurking beneath that country melancholia, however, is a menacing and paranoid guitar solo stolen straight from Young's other gig, Crazy Horse. It's almost as though Finn is getting his Neil Young's mixed here and it's a compelling listen. Played with a steely reserve before unleashing all manners of hell, the solo commandeers the song away from Finn's lyrical subtexts.

The subtext being, of course, the implications and innuendos that hide beneath Finn's usual lyrical motif: religion. While he's never had a particularly reverent take on the subject, he's never wielded it like an axe to grind either. Instead, he's used it as an observational litmus for the obsessed, the depressed and the desparate. Drawing a fine line between the righteous and the wicked, he uses religious fervor to coax equal amounts of horror and humour from occupants on both sides. Whether it's the pseudo-pious fake of "When No One's Watching" or the newly rehabbed head case with his "New Friend Jesus," it's obvious that any religious undertones here have little to do with being religious. More than anything, these are full blown addicts who have moved on to the opiate of the masses.

Finn has stated in interviews that Clear Heart Full Eyes was simply an excercise in songwriting for him, a project designed to hone his skills and contributions to his regular gig. That shouldn't imply, though, that there aren't thrills to be had here. Certainly, there's a dark paranoia that courses through songs like "Apollo Bay" and "Western Pier." Additionally, "Not Much Left of Us" may be one of the prettiest songs that Finn has written. But songs like "Jackson" and "Terrified Eyes" could easily be punched up into boozy Hold Steady regulars if you replaced their sad sack country tinges with rifftastic guitar heroics. None moreso than "Honolulu Blues," however, in which an epic bender is set to a blustery and bluesy barroom swagger with enough sardonic glee for a Cohen brothers movie. It's the good ol' Hold Steady fun you'd expect from Finn. More than that, however, it brings his split lip songwriting to the fore- you're never quite sure what's happened except for the stories and except for the bloodstains.



essential listening
Apollo Bay
Terrified Eyes
Honolulu Blues

I'm Not Sleeping

I'm only dreaming.

And listening to lots of music. I feel it's a fairly safe bet to say that reviews are pending for Polica, Sleigh Bells, Ingrid Michaelson, Die Antwoord, Craig Finn, Goldfrapp, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones and possibly a few other things. If that seems disparate, imagine what it sounds like in my head. In any event, I needed a week off and a little more time to live with the music and let it digest.

With that said, don't wake me- I'll be back soon.

The Dark Side of Scroobius Pip: Distraction Pieces

Forget the Scroobius Pip who bullied the pulpit in 2007's "Thou Shalt Always Kill." And forget the one that wanted to "Get Better" in 2010. The Pip of 2011's Distraction Pieces comes off more like his indignant doppleganger- the raging anarchist that lurked beneath Pip's usual pragmatic optimism has been released and boy, is he surly. When he says "if the bad times are coming, let 'em come," he's not posturing with a stiff upper lip. He's spoiling for a fight. Whether it's the defiant "Introdiction" or the anti-military industrial complex rant of "Soldier Boy, Kill 'Em," the question must be asked: is there a better hip-hop superhero for these Occupied times?

Taking a break from the usual sound of Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, Distraction Pieces flaunts a new sonic palette for Pip to toss his wordplay off of. Dan Le Sac and his bouncing electro soundscapes are nowhere to be found here, giving way instead to an elemental guitar aesthetic that seems to fuel the surliness. It urgently propels the insurgency that pulses beneath the surface of songs like "Let 'Em Come," "Try Dying" and "Domestic Silence." But when "Death of a Journalist" is armed with an old school 808 drum attack, the realization sinks in: Scroobius Pip has delivered an old school Run-DMC/Public Enemy record that most hip-hoppers claim to love but have forgotten.

Musically, Distraction Pieces doesn't necessarily suggest a musical break from Pip's partnership with Dan Le Sac. In fact, if it suggests a break of any kind, it's a schizophrenic one from his past lyrical self. The trenchantly disturbed "Introdiction" reinforces this notion when Pip recasts himself as the lead from television's Quantum Leap. "Ziggy says if I keep writing this shit, there's an eight percent chance that Al can make it a pop hit," he raps before turning it around with "But Al's an alcoholic and I'm a fucking schizoprhenic." Produced by NIN's Danny Lohner, it's the perfect opening track with Travis Barker's claustrophobic drumming and Milla Jovovich's best Resident Evil backing vocals adding to the eeriness.

Moving from television to the theatre, cinema seems to looms large on Pip's mind. Whether it's a Goldfinger reference in "Domestic Silence" or the inspiration of Secret Window in "the Struggle," he's doing his best to make good on "Introdiction's" promise to be the "soundtrack to your fucking movie." In particular, "the Struggle" recasts Pip as a new kind of American psycho taking his place in the new American dream, one in which a celebrity obsessed culture allows the best of the beautiful to indulge in the worst of atrocities. "My name is Johnny Depp and I kill people" he states rather plainly over bluesy guitar licks and Bo Diddley toms.

Any concerns over the veracity of the narrator's reality in "the Struggle" are immediately confronted by the successive "Broken Promise." The spectacularly murderous whims of the former are juxtaposed by the sober failings of the latter. As a moment of clarity, it's more lucid than dream and the bitter taste of reality is reflected in the somber guitar line that echoes in the back. For all his talk of replacing the Heartbreak Hotel with the "Fuck You, Get Over It Bed and Breakfast," it's obvious that Pip is the sole occupant. It's a place of ugly repose, but one in which the listener can let go before the ethereal jump off of "Feel It." Whether this is indicative of whatever twisted reality Pip dreams of next, only the future will tell.

Even though it's never name checked, there's a pervasive element of Fight Club that looms large over this record. It's an anti-social element, murderous even, that eschews all formal societal boundaries and structures while simultaneously celebrating the human spirit. "Introdiction" sets the agenda early on when Pip raps "You see a mouse trap, I see free cheese and a fucking challenge." So make no mistake, this is not the Pip of 2008's Angles that conversed with Lloyd Dobbler in his dreams. This is the Pip that turns into Tyler Durden when he sleeps and he's welcoming us to his nightmare.


essential listening:
Introdiction
the Struggle
Let 'Em Come

A Murder of Counting Crows: August and Everything After- Live at Town Hall

Eighteen years after their debut album was released on Geffen records, Counting Crows return to the scene of the crime with August and Everything After- Live at Town Hall. Their first release free of major label obligations, Live at Town Hall is an inspired effort that reconnects the audience to some of the band's most beloved songs. It's a deft move for the band and a great way to celebrate their newfound independence. It's also a great opportunity to reflect on why August and Everything After was so resonant in the first place.

Originally released in 1993, August and Everything After was hailed as an instant classic as it built off the enormous success of it's lead off single, "Mr. Jones." The album's success was hardly a revelation, however, as the band arrived with enormous expectations attached. Prior to August's release, they were tapped to fill in for Van Morrison who decidedly missed his own induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Proving to be well worth the hype, Counting Crows went on to deliver the feel bad album of the decade that everybody felt pretty good about. At a time and within a genre that celebrated it's most unlikely heroes, they also managed to deliver one of the feel bad albums that defined a generation.

Produced by T-Bone Burnett and not Butch Vig(Nirvana), Brendan O'Brien(Pearl Jam) or Steve Albini(the Pixies), the album was a different beast in the alternative jungle altogether. It was flush with mandolins, accordions, piano and acoustic guitars. As an alternative to alternative, it shamed the unimaginative drums-bass-guitar combo that defined the fuzzbox fury of everyone from Nirvana to Helmet. Additionally, it set the stage for left of everything bands like Wilco while still managing to honor the rock and roll traditions of everyone from the Band to R.E.M.

Armed with lush instrumentation and reliable songwriting, Counting Crows seemed like heavy contenders for the few markets interested in alternative but wary of it's "grungier" components like Pearl Jam. Similar to Pearl Jam, however, Counting Crows saw a meteoric rise in their fortunes and a large amount of this success was attributed to a troubled but charismatic lead singer. There was an undeniable gravitas to Adam Duritz' voice that seemed tethered to the same pained place as the ubiquitious Eddie Vedder. And despite the sonic differences of their bands, both delivered albums haunted by souls lost and isolated. As a result, the Crows legitimized alternative in a way that Pearl Jam, Nirvana and none of their peers could. They were angsty enough to romantically hypnotize my teenage brain and yet, they still delivered emotionally resonant music that favored talent over stylish gimmicry. It was the only time you'd find my father stealing my* albums.

In the time since that first album, a lot has happened. Duritz quit music- it was rumored he tended bars for a year before coming to his senses and returning with Recovery of the Satellites. Following that, Counting Crows would go on to release three more studio efforts, two live albums, a best of compilation and the inevitable re-release of the debut that started it all. In the process, they also managed to galvanize a sterling reputation as one of America's best live acts (alongside, who else- Pearl Jam).

Duritz, despite the myopic nature of his songs, has always entertained the public as a live wire singer full of warmth and humor he'd never get credit for otherwise. Additionally, the band has always seemed to delight in the malleability of their songs and arrangements as they'd take them from acoustic to blisteringly loud and back again. By focusing on substance over style, Counting Crows managed to build a catalog of work that translates easily from large arenas to small stages without sacrificing the emotional impact of their songs.

As deft as the band's performance is on Live at Town Hall, however, it's that emotional impact that fuel it's songs and it's success. Time has not dulled the wounded isolation for the protagonists that haunt Duritz' narratives. The heartache and sorrow that defines Maria in "Around Here" is still pulpable as is Duritz' exasperation and despair over her. The desperate need for validation that fuels "Mr. Jones" resonates as true as ever despite the narrator's oblivious irony to the song. The confounding "Anna Begins," the broken "Time and Time Again" and the plaintive "Murder of One" all still ring true in the hands of this band.

Ultimately, Live at Town Hall serves as a nice recognition of the benchmark that August and Everything After set not just for the band but for alternative music as well. By the current standards of music and technology, it's a singles market with not much room to spare for albums. But August and Everything After was released at a time when historic albums were released at a dizzying clip. Undeniably, there was a uniformity to the songs that rivaled only the best of their contemporaries, regardless of whether it was Nirvana's Nevermind, Pearl Jam's Ten or Red Hot Chili Peppers' BloodSugarSexMagic. And it's not beside the fact that Counting Crows have lived up to the standards of their early work with far more consistency than the majority of their peers. Late night pub talk could commence forever on which of their albums were classic and which were subpar. But the odds are that if you're a fan, you'd count at least three classic albums in their catalog.



*A total lie. August and Everything After was still a cd that I stole from my father. I just happened to hear them first.

Walking the Line with Chris Isaak: Beyond the Sun

From his pompadour to his mirror ball suit, Chris Isaak has never been shy about standing on the shoulders of rock and roll giants. Beyond the Sun finds him moving from their shoulders to their living rooms as he takes up residence in Memphis' Sun Studios and tackles the legacies of Elvis, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins and more. This double disc set* allows Isaak a place in which he can embrace, without restraint, all the things that make him an American institution in his own right. His rockabilly swagger might be short on innovation here but it's steeped in reverance and really, who needs innovation with a songbook like this?

The definitive songs of three great American originals are here as Isaak covers Roy Orbison's "Oh, Pretty Woman," Jerry Lee Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire" and Johnny Cash's one two punch of "Ring of Fire" and "I Walk the Line." Compared to the possessed insanity of Jerry Lee Lewis or the unassailable gravitas of Johnny Cash, however, Isaak's vocals seem more suitable to Presley. Elvis' songs account for more than a lion's share of the tracklisting here and, unsurprisingly, his mellifluous vocal taste and refinement is golden throated honey on "Can't Help Falling in Love." All the other Presley tracks that follow suit (particularly the idiomatic "Love Me" on disc 2) can only hint at the impact that a young Elvis had. In the hands of Isaak, though, it's easier to imagine.

There's a certain joy, though, in listening to Isaak throw such vocal restraint to the wind. The Jimmy Wages song "Miss Pearl" sees the man and his band ripping loose: he howls his vocals like a man possessed through a clamor of frenzied guitar work and booming organ solos. It's a welcomed reminder of what a crack band Silvertone is and what they're capable of- rave ups with blistering guitar work and impassioned solos. It's a passion that carries over to Isaak originals like "Live It Up" and "Lovely Loretta." Undoubtedly, Beyond the Sun offers some of the best guitar work of the last year that, guaranteed, you won't hear from anyone else.

Beyond the Sun feels like such an obvious stroke of genius, it's amazing it hadn't been attempted before. Certainly, it's not Isaak's first cover on record: Heart Shaped World featured Bo Diddley's "Diddley Daddy" and San Francisco Days closed out with the ultimate rendition of Neil Young's "Solitary Man." 1996's Baja Sessions, anchored by Roy Orbison's "Only the Lonely," featured numerous covers. But none of that mitigates the sheer joy of listening to (or recording, I imagine) this collection of American originals. Jerry Lee Lewis' "Lucky Old Sun," the number that closes disc two, is as stirring a song as one could hope for from Lewis. But here, sung with all the cool heart and soul of Isaak's tenor, the song becomes more of a benediction as the listener starts to feel like the lucky one.


*Sure, there's a one disc edition of this but why would you want that? Disc 1 may have "Ring of Fire," "Great Balls of Fire," "Can't Help Falling in Love," "Miss Pearl" and "I Walk the Line" but disc 2 has "Pretty Woman," "Love Me," "Lucky Old Sun" and a number of other unlikely songs that are every bit as incredible as the obvious hits.

Leap Year: Ronin Rock's 2011 Bitchin' Mixtape

As we settle into February, it's more than obvious (and overdue) to recognize the new year. December was a prodigous whirlwind of creative energy for me and I tried to carry as much of that over to January as possible. The result: numerous short pieces focusing on a handful of albums from 2011 and a few (much) longer pieces on music that holds great value to me as an artist, consumer and fan of music. It was a great opportunity for me to stretch out as a writer and test my personal limits. Hopefully, this revealed more efficient methods in which to deliver content as well as shortcomings that can be addressed in order to make me a stronger writer all around.

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to read. I hope you found something here that touched your hearts, minds and/or memories. It's a crazy thing to realize that someone out there is receiving what you thought were just random messages, bottled away for distant shores. But, like I said, thank you for reading. It's nice to be validated on occasion.

December is always a cross between self congratulations, holiday marketing and hopeless nostalgia when it comes to creative industries. We read all the grandiose best of lists, which are about as subjective as subjective can be, and buy large for Christmas. Screw that noise. Very little comes out in January because most of the good stuff was released in December and even then, it's not like we throw 2011's baby out with the bathwater. With that in mind, I present my bitchin' mixtape for 2011. Because new stuff (Craig Finn, Ingrid Michaelson and who is this Lana Del Rey person?) is starting to trickle in and because there are a few things I'm only now managing to wrap my head around (the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, the Roots).

Because really. You were still listening to the best that last year had to offer anyways.
So enjoy.

"The Devil is in the Beats" by the Chemical Brothers- My favorite piece of audio acid from the Chemical Brothers' warped score to Hanna, this is the sound of that soundtrack as heard through the looking glass. Bouncy, catchy and weird, this song is an amalgamation of everything I loved about the soundtrack.

"Gucci Gucci" by Kreayshawn- Undoubtedly the strangest thing I've heard in the last year, this little slice of hip hop weirdness is as infectious and memorable as it is offputting. This has me concerned for and excited about the state of hip hop in equal measures.

"Milkman" by EMA- Industrially poppish, this song is probably the most accessible piece from EMA's Past Life Martyred Saints. Incredibly naive but fearless, it was equal parts Pink Floyd, Nine Inch Nails and the Cureit and probably the most compelling thing I heard all year.

"Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People- Combining Danger Mouse's lo-fi Gorillaz production sense with the whistles of Peter Bjorn and John? Genius! Pathologically violent and adolescent lyrics? By the time people notice, they'll already be hooked. And am I the only suddenly nostalgic for Reeboks?

"Sail" by AWOLNation- I have no idea what this song is actually about, but it's paranoid, dark and funky enough that I don't mind. It's incredible what a laptop and a little adderall can do, yes?

"Immigrant Song" by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, featuring Karen 0- Opening up David Fincher's Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, this Led Zeppelin classic seemed to be a bit *points to nose*. But Fincher, returning to his roots as a video director, makes such a thrilling opening that the Stockholme Syndrome is instantaneous.

"Breaking Down" by Florence + the Machine- Defying sophomoritis, Ceremonials rocked the face off its predecessor despite no obvious "Dog Days"like single. This song was equipped with just the right amount of drums, piano and a lilting melody from Florence that evokes the most graceful and powerful of Siouxsie Sioux comparisons.

"Cold Comfort Flowers" by Fountains of Wayne- There's always been a whistful side to Fountains of Wayne, but Sky Full of Holes placed it front and center. That doesn't mean they skimped on the psychedelic harmonies or singalong melodies, though, and the intro to this song alone will be stuck in your head for weeks to come.

"Uberlin" by R.E.M.- There's an innate tension to this song that suggests a narrator hiding behind the facade of routine. There's also a sense of impending finality as the song's transcendent choruses take flight. A change is taking place, at the very least internally, and only the listener bears witness. This makes me miss R.E.M. that much more and they've barely left.

"Introdiction" by Scroobius Pip- Scroobius Pip returns without Dan LeSac and boy, does he sound grouchy. Produced by NIN's Danny Lohner with drums by Travis Barker and backing vocals by Milla Jovovich, this is the most compelling rhyme Pip has dropped since "Thou Shalt Always Kill."

"Give Up the Ghost" by Radiohead- Hidden behind an unassailable collection of digital audio madness, Radiohead starts to deliver actual songs halfway through King of Limbs. This haunted lullabye is the prettiest song they've made in years and well worth the wait to hear Thom Yorke actually sing a melody.

"The Beginning of the End" by the Twilight Singers- Nobody makes music more cinematic than Greg Dulli (in any of his groups) and this is no exception. Explosive, longing and remorseful, Dulli opens the song big before settling into hushed crooning and back again. This is one last blast before the curtain call and it's everything I love about this band.

"Your Past Life is a Blast" by Okkervil River- Okkervil River, typical of the weird that is Austin, has always been too literate to be easily defined. They're not loud enough, fast enough, catchy enough, country enough or anything enough to be anything but Okkervil River. That being said, I Am Very Far caught me off guard- not just by how good it was but by it's sheer existence. And this song stands out as a particular sentimal favorite for me.

"Map of Tasmania" by Amanda Palmer featuring Young Punx- Yes. It is a song about... well, pubes. But it also happens to be a helluva lotta fun. So just let it all hang out,... as it were.

"Under Cover of Darkness" by the Strokes- While Angles lacked the cohesion of their last three albums, this song was a pretty damn good reminder of why we all loved them in the first place. With everyone in their right place, this was the Strokes proper- Julian Casablancas' crooning, Albert Hammond's inimitable rhythm style and a searing lead from Nick Valensi. Just don't make us wait so long for number five, guys.

"Open and Honest" by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones- It's amazing what the Bosstones can do when they put their minds to it. This is from their third release (Magic of Youth) since they reconvened a few years ago and it's got all the Mighty Mighty hallmarks. From Dicky Barrett's cheery Henry Rollins via Joe Strummer everyman vibe to the reverb drenched guitar skank, this is magic indeed.

"This is Home" by Blink 182- From the triumphant return of Neighborhoods, this song is a perfect evocation of youth in all it's follies. Unfettered, fearless and hungry, this song is a great reminder about what it feels like to be young and free in a dangerous world.

"Rolling in the Deep" by Adele- Sure, Adele's got a powerhouse of a voice but it's all the old school stomping going on in the background that's really got me excited. The quarter note piano hammers and the floor toms are all brilliant but it's the handclaps that sealed the deal for me.

"I Walk the Line" by Chris Isaak- Chris Isaak covers all of the Sun Studios greats with Beyond the Sun but it takes a certain gravitas to take on the Man in Black. And here, Isaak delivers in full and then some. I mean, really, it's Chris Isaak covering Johnny Cash. What the hell else do you need?

"Norteno Lights" by Mariachi El Bronx- Most of Mariachi El Bronx (II) comes off like the soundtrack to a Robert Rodriguez movie (which is great if it's your cup of tea). This little love song, on the other hand, is everything that you love or hate about mariachi: that worldly polka beat with a frenetic accordion and horns. I love it to death and want nothing more than to turn it up to full blast at three in the morning, thus pissing off the rest of the neighborhood.

"All the Sand in the Sea" by Devotchka- This is the sound of Lorca scored by Ennio Morricone and spiked with red wine. That's not the first time I've said that and it won't be the last. But I certainly will never say it better. In a perfect world, this would be a starmaking song for this little Denver band.

"Down All the Days" by U2- I know what it sounds like (and you will too if you get the chance to hear this song). But what this song really is is the perfect summation of U2's gravelly throated desperation and exuberant sonic ambition amidst the studio sessions that made Achtung Baby. Pound for pound, the band has never sounded better than at this point in time.