Five Best...Valentine Songs

#5. "Sleepwalker" by the Wallflowers

Cupid, don't draw back your bow
Sam Cooke didn't know what I know
I'll never be your valentine
The sleepwalker in me
And God only know that I've tried

#4. "When I'm 64" by the Beatles

When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a Valentine,
birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

#3. "St. Patrick's Day" by John Mayer

No way November will see our goodbye
When it comes to December, it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
And come January, we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my valentine?
And we'll both be safe 'til St. Patrrick's Day

#2. "Love Minus Zero/No Limit" by Bob Dylan

People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.

#1. "My Funny Valentine" by Frank Sinatra

But don't change your hair for me
Not if you care for me
Stay little valentine stay
Each day is Valentine's Day

My Faves

Yesterday, my dad sent me an e-mail about Frank Sinatra: The Man, The Music, The Legend, an anthology of essays about Ol’ Blue Eyes brought together at a 1998 conference held at Hofstra University. After reading the briefing by Benjamin Schwartz, literary and national editor of the Atlantic, I began to think of how much I enjoy Sinatra, although I hardly mention him on Five Best. From there, my thoughts drifted towards if I could only hear five bands or artists for the rest of my life, who would they be? Here’s what I came up with, in no particular order:

Bob Dylan
-If you’ve read my blog even once, you know how much I love Dylan. Plus, he’s got a long discography of fifty plus albums—and how could I go the rest of my life without hearing my two favorite albums, Blood on the Tracks and Blonde on Blonde.

Frank Sinatra
-Lots of albums, lots of different emotions he can stir up, amazing voice…need I continue?

The Beatles
-Although they didn’t release as many albums as Dylan or Sinatra, they’re the freakin’ Beatles! Of course I’d include them.

And here’s where it gets tough. Those three choices I thought of without even really, well, thinking, but for my final two, I’m left wondering whether I should choose two rock bands. Or maybe some jazz? Can I go the rest of my life without hearing Once More, With Feeling again? So, after much thought, here are my final two:

Louis Armstrong
-When I asked my dad who he’d have on his list, he included Louis (along with Dylan, Sinatra, Paul Desmond and either Bill Evans or Ben Webster) and I didn’t. In an e-mail I sent back to him after getting his choices, I mentioned that I’d probably pick Monk or Coltrane over Louis but upon second thought, I would choose Louis for one main reason: vocals. Although I might listen to Monk and ‘Trane more, I don’t think I could go the rest of my life without hearing his work with Ella Fitzgerald.

For the last slot, I thought about Richard Thompson, Miles Davis, the Kinks, the Ramones, Neil Young, the Velvet Underground, the Rolling Stones, Otis Redding, Sam Cooke and David Bowie, but my choice inevitably came down to two: The Clash or Tom Waits. And my last artist is:

Tom Waits
-I may actually like the Clash more than Waits, but it simply comes down to the amount of albums and how good they are. The Clash has two masterpiece albums (The Clash and London Calling) while Waits only has one (Rain Dogs), but there aren’t that many other Clash albums (I mean, I could go the rest of my life without Super Black Market Clash, and I wouldn’t too upset). As for Waits, he doesn’t have a bad album on his résumé, and has a lot more of them as well.

So here they are:







Who would be in your group?

Five Best...Christmas Cover Songs

#5. "Baby It's Cold Outside" by Zooey Deschanel and Will Ferrell

#4. "Merry Little Christmas" by Frank Sinatra (sorry for the terrible video, but this song had to be on the list somehow, and there aren't many versions of it online)

#3. "Little Drummer Boy-Silent Night-Auld Lang Syne" by Jimi Hendrix

#2. "Baby It's Cold Outside" by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Jordan

#1. "Frosty the Snowman" by Leon Redbone and Dr. John

Here's another cool video: a guy in Rochester, NY set his outdoor Christmas lights to flash on and off to the rhythm of "Linus and Lucy" by Vince Guaraldi.

No Christmas would be complete without "It Feels Like Christmas" from A Muppet Christmas Carol. It's one of my favorite holiday songs.

Cha-Cha-Change

A few years ago, I thought that the most depressing song in the world was “All I Really Want to Do” by Bob Dylan because I had just gotten out of a relationship and on the first time the ex and I met again, she put that song on when we were driving around.

I ain't lookin' to compete with you,
Beat or cheat or mistreat you,
Simplify you, classify you,
Deny, defy or crucify you.
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you.

Now, because I’m no longer depressed, I think the song is hilarious, as does Dylan who laughs while singing one of the verses. I used to see it as a post-break up track but it’s actually Dylan, I believe, coming up with excuses so that he doesn’t have to get into a relationship he has no interest in. And the excuses get exceedingly funnier: “advertise you,” “define you,” “fake you out,” “forsake you out.”

I’m not writing this posting about solely “All I Really Want to Do,” but more along the lines of song’s that your perception of changes when your mood changes. Or, in the case of Frank Sinatra’s “Soliloquy,” it changes because of a friend.

Earlier this year or possibly even last, I made a mix-CD for a friend with “Soliloquy” as, if memory serves, the last track. Written by Rodgers and Hammerstein and appearing on The Concert Sinatra, I was instantly drawn to the track because it’s lengthy, funny and fun to sing.

The first half of the song deals with Sinatra, a father-to-be, wondering what his son will think of him and of all the great times they’re going to have together. Then, it dawns on him, what happens if “he is a she”? After all, “You can have fun with a son/ But you got to be a father to a girl.”

The finale of the song takes on this kind of tone:

I gotta get ready before she comes
Gotta make certain that she won't be dragged up in slums with a lot o' bums like me
She's gotta be sheltered and fed and dressed in the best that money can buy!
I never knew how to get money but, I'll try, by God! I'll try!
I'll go out and make it or steal it
Or take it or die!

It’s way overdone but if anyone can handle lyrics this heartfelt, it’s Ol’ Blue Eyes. But I never gave much thought to this final verse, but after asking for feedback for the mix I had made my friend, she said that she started crying hearing the song.

I had forgotten while making it that she never really knew her father and that he wasn’t the “gotta be sheltered and fed and dressed in the best” kind of guy. Had I remembered, I’m not sure if I would put on the mix.

But it was odd seeing this song in a whole different light: instead of a funny tale about what life’s going to be like with a son or a daughter, it now dawned on me that it could also be seen as the act of a father being petrified on if he’s going to be a good Dad or not.

Stupid, clever Rodgers and Hammerstein…

Whenever I listen to these two songs and others like them, it’s unfathomable to me how I could have seen the other perspective of the lyrics. But I guess that’s the wonder of song.

High Hopes

One of the more memorable musical experiences in my life occurred when I was in group therapy at psychiatric hospital in White Plains, New York.

I was the youngest member of a 15-person group, which ranged from stressed out mothers with three children to a woman in her 60s who enjoyed having a Bloody Mary or two between games of tennis. But the person I remember most vividly was a man in the later years of his life who possessed very few teeth and a sagging posture. He was depressed because his wife had married him not out of love, but because she was, I believe, Brazilian, and needed a green card.

His name was Frank and his idol possessed the same first name: Frank Sinatra. It was rare when I got to talk to Frank because intense socialization wasn’t the reason we were there. But the times that I did, he would tell me about seeing Ol’ Blue Eyes in concert or about how great Duets is.

The therapist leading one of the groups knew about Frank’s liking of Sinatra and one day asked him to sing one of his songs. After a little thought, Frank picked “High Hopes,” a song Sinatra recorded in 1959 and was released two years later.

You probably know the lyrics, but here’s a couple of verses:

“Next time you’re found, with your chin on the ground
There’s a lot to be learned, so look around

Just what makes that little old ant
Think he’ll move that rubber tree plant
Anyone knows an ant, can’t
Move a rubber tree plant

But he’s got high hopes, he’s got high hopes
He’s got high apple pie, in the sky hopes

So any time you’re gettin’ low
Instead of lettin’ go
Just remember that ant
Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant.”

It wasn’t just Frank that the therapist wanted singing, but the whole group. It’s one of those songs that everyone knows without really knowing why (very similar to fairy tales in that regard—I mean, I don’t believe anyone ever read me Hansel and Gretel but I know the story by heart) and by the time the song got to “chin on the ground,” the small room was filled with echoes of optimism—even if it was ant and ram related.

It all seemed a little sappy to me and I refrained from singing. It’s like when Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary came to visit my Dylan class and he made us sing “Blowin’ in the Wind” with him. It’s not that I don’t enjoy group sing-a-long’s (look no further than my having gone to the Buffy Sing-A-Long…twice) but it’s sort of like when you’re feeling depressed, you’d rather have it be rainy outside rather than sunny because that way the weather is matching your emotions and no one else can have fun either. I guess I didn’t feel singing the ultimate song of “Go Get ‘Em, Kid” at that time, and still really don’t but for different reasons. Then, I was depressed and now, it’s just because I don’t really like the song. I’m very happy for the now.

When I listen to Sinatra, I often think about Frank and wonder how he’s doing. At the very least, I hope he has “high hopes.”