Spektor vs Carpenter

 

Welcome to the latest instalment of the badly titled Everyone Has Got one Good Song blog thing. Day 46.

I was thinking of building the ultimate playlist with one simple rule. One artist. One song. Each day will feature a song by an artist whose birthday is that day and then nine other songs by nine different artists just because people like things to be in tens.

The playlist is here - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4exU9MUJMWaouOgnu7zmSl?si=I5fqk7VpQX6aDGec7xvqsQ&pi=e-IfIWXc5GT56R

 

So, the idea was that you might want to follow and share and either have the playlist yourself or do your own or chat about it with me, you could use the hashtag #EHGOGS.

I’m on Twitter X thing as @fourfoot

Today’s selections is dedicated to birthday girl Regina Spektor. Today’s blog will be impressionistic and fucking vague. It’s all about the playlist. t

Us – Regina Spektor Rhapsody on Bjork or something. Have you ever read Catcher on the Rye? It’s shit. I close my eyes and get some montage of some woman running out of a Manhattan bookstore and down the street past all these Woody Allen skyscrapers.

Final Day – Young Marble Giants. When I was a kid, and just like every other kid my age I was preoccupied to an unhealthy extent with the fear of being vaporized in nuclear conflagration. Had I had access to this slice of Cardiff post-punk minimalism, I would at least have had something to dance to.

All That We’ve Become - Society I bet they’re from Liverpool. These Scott Walker loving types always are. It’s Beefheart in Manchester, Hazelwood in Glasgow and Zappa in the South Wales Valleys. Can’t explain it, don’t understand it either.

Darlin – Paper Dolls Beach Boys cover that acts as the soundtrack to all the unfocused blurs and sensations that make up what I suspect is the very earliest memories I have. It’s a Hanna Barbera Polaroid of a song.

Laura Palmer – Luxembourg Signal. Pre-streaming, this would have led to an NME cover, a Melody Maker single of the week, a patchy debut album and a support slot to the Cocteaus at the Town and Country. I don’t know, I’m reaching. This is a lovely song made up of all the things you like, you indie shoegaze post-goth pre-armageddon statue-hating sex kids.

Casio Bossa Nova – Holy Fuck. Instrumental interlude that will make you want to do all the washing up you left from last night, but you’ll end up smashing it all in a frenzied dance. Enjoy A&E

Century - Feist Not enough songs feature sums.

I’m Moving to Wales - Eberg. Forty years ago I moved to Wales. I was a kid so I had zero say. My parents apologise for this now. I’m still here. I don’t know if Eberg followed through on their threat.

Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves - Cher This was playing in the background when Richard Curtis wrote the opening eight racist minutes of Notting Hill. Cher’s finest hour, Richard’s worst.

Superstar - Carpenters Something wonderful to end, something timeless. It’s Sunday, I haven’t slept. I’m in limbo and in the next few weeks I’m going to have to make some Big Momentous Life Decisions and really I’d just like to rest in the comforting blankets of this bittersweet pop landmark. Anyway, thanks for putting up with this shit – tomorrow we celebrate birthday boy Smokey Robinson.