Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 15

Day 15 - A One-Hit Wonder

The term "one-hit wonder" is a bit annoying, because it is terribly vague. Is it only an artist that had one, and only one, single? Perhaps an artist that only had one single in the Top 40? Maybe the artist had other singles, but they were all overshadowed by their grand uber-single. It's a rich tapestry. Regardless, today's entry is on a band primarily known for one, and only one, ultra-ubiquitous single.

Crazy Town – “Butterfly” 



I was ragging a bit on the 90’s the other day; I’ll add a few more qualifications onto it. I don’t think I’ll mind too heavily when 90’s nostalgia comes back in, but I think, musically, I’ll be much more receptive to tracks from the late 90’s and early 00’s (The Offspring, Coolio, Good Charlotte, etc.) than from the early 90’s (Mariah Carey, Boyz II Men, Milli Vanilli, etc.). There are a few reasons for this, the largest one being that I did not listen to much music from the early 90’s, and thus have no prior attachment (another smaller one: I hate that stupid keyboard sound). Ah, but the late 90’s, now we have some semblance of awareness on monsieur Testerman’s part (hell, I’ll even be cool with Cleopatra).

One late 90’s song that I will be receptive to entirely without irony is Crazy Town’s number-one hit, “Butterfly.” A staple of middle school dances and house parties everywhere during the days of Palm Beach County, “Butterfly” is one of the only songs I can think of where the rock/rap genre of music actually sounds fun. Consider: Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit (gah, those names), Saliva; all were angsty buggers with copious amounts of yelling thrown into their lyrical flow. Great for dudes who were into ostensibly heavier music (like me), but not so awesome for folks who were already sold on the concept of “constantly sounding angry.”

“Butterfly,” on the other hand, has a playful, light delivery, and its white-boy cadence sounds much more appealing since it lacks any pretensions of being “hardcore.” The song’s instrumentation is pretty damn catchy too, with its slightly-hypnotic bass line and dreamy guitar riff acting as the melodic center points. Coupled with the turntable interlude and serviceable drums, and it’s perhaps the most conceptually-pure form of the dreaded late 90’s rock/rap, and its lack of drop-D chugs make it all the more satisfying.

Lastly, and I’m giving it its own paragraph to mark its importance, is the chorus. If the success of “Butterfly” can be attributed to any one element, it’s the chorus, a smooth-as-1999-will-permit series of corny lines that gel into one big, satisfying slice of Just Go With It (as opposed to Just Go With It). Perhaps it’s a generational thing, but singing along with “Butterfly,” especially with other people, feels incredibly cool (it also feels incredibly stupid, but the two emotions create a nice synergy together).

Crazy Town, for all intents and purposes were never heard from again. They released a follow-up album, Dark Horse, in 2002, and a total of four more singles, but none of them ever charted on the Billboard Hot 100. Apparently they are fixing to release a new album for the first time in nearly ten years. If they end up touring to promote it, I bet I can guess at least one song they’ll play at their show.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 14

Day 14 – A 10’s Song

Alright, we’re about a year and a half into the new decade, which doesn’t leave with much to write about (unless you were clever about this challenge and picked a theme). Still, I’m nothing if not persistent, so here we go!

Kanye West - "Power"



An innovative producer and creative wordsmith, Kanye West is one of my favorite rappers of the past ten years. However, because of his rather unfortunate penchant for acting like a jackass, I find that his music is best enjoyed in a bubble, willfully ignoring his comments about George W. Bush vs. black people, or his musings on exactly which music video is the greatest of all time. 

"Power" was Kanye's first single released after his self-imposed exile following his notorious interruption at the 2009 VMAs. I had a good deal of interest vested in this song when it first came out; not only to see what the reaction to it would be, but also whether or not it would be any good. I had given his previous album, 808s & Heartbreak, a pass, and I was ready for some new content (Kan-tent?) that I could actively care about.  Fortunately, "Power" came through.

Like most of my favorite Kanye West songs, "Power" has some stellar production work. "Power" samples what sounds like Native American chanting and mixes it with huge-sounding drums and a warble-y guitar, giving it a hugely unique sound, and one that stands out many modern rap songs in that pop space. Lyrically, it's a return to Kanye's more specific, personal writing style that was prominent on his first two albums, and while lines that are very particular to Kanye West make it hard to forget exactly who is performing the song, I do enjoy some of his lateral thinking punchlines ("Everybody, we rollin'/With some light-skinned girls and some Kelly Rowlands").

My only gripe with the track (apart from how pleased Kanye sounds with himself during most of the song--then again, we are talking about Kanye West) is the two-minute outro portion of the song, which takes a perfectly radio-friendly hip hop single and extends it into over-indulgence. In fact, I have this problem with nearly every track on the album this song comes from, My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy (ugh, even the title is self-consciously overbearing). Most of the songs say everything they need to in 3-4 minutes, then stick around anywhere from 1-5 minutes for the apparent sheer, unadultered hell of it (seriously, there's no reason why "Runaway" needs to be nine minutes long). It's this faux-epicness that keeps me from giving it more than two or three casual listens.

Still, I dig "Power" overall. The production is great, the chorus works, and the song just feels good. It's also one hell of a trailer song.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 13

Day 13 – A 2000’s Song

The Aughts (are they seriously called that?) are still pretty fresh to do musical post-morctem on, but I will say this: the early 2000’s pop music scene was pretty well-saturated with rap. Granted, it’s not like rap has really gone away since then, but it seems like, between ’02 and ’05, a constant revolving door of new Yung Schmos or Lil Shawtys had a new single tearing up the charts. We’ve since segued into more dance-heavy territory, but I’ll never forget the period of time where the best way to dance was simply to pull your pants up and lean back.

Chingy – “Right Thurr”



Remember Chingy? Probably not. But if you listened to the radio during the summer of 2003, there’s a good chance you’ve heard him, and his breakthrough single “Right Thurr.” “Right Thurr” is an ode to a lady, a lady who Chingy hits on repeatedly through the course of the song, though where she stands in relation to the lyrics is a bit dubious (One line: “I’m thinking ‘bout snatching you up, dirty, and make you mine.” The very next line: “Look at her hips, look at her legs, ain’t she stacked?”). The production is nothing special, with only a slightly acid-sounding synthesizer giving it any character at all, and the lyrics are pretty inane at best (“I swooped on her like an eagle swooping down on its prey”).

What, then, made “Right Thurr” so popular that it managed to climb all the way up to #2 on the Billboard Hot 100? Bugger if I know. If I had to posit a guess, though, I would submit that “Right Thurr” benefited from The Ke$ha Effect. The Ke$ha Effect (in addition to sounding like a 3D IMAX concert movie) is what happens when a song is so dumb, listeners start taking to it ironically, only to become caught up in the song on a legitimate level. The difference here is that while Ke$ha can be reasonably defended on a musically creative level, I’m not sure how adamantly I can come to the aid of “Right Thurr,” a song whose primary appeal is dumbness for the sake of being dumb, without any clever behind-the-scenes design decisions.

I remember liking “Right Thurr” during the height of its popularity, but time has not been kind to it. Nor, indeed, to its artist; though he is apparently still active and working on a new album, Chingy hasn’t had a Top 40 single since 2006’s “Pullin’ Me Back.” It’s just as well, I suppose—after all, not everyone can be Ludacris or Jay-Z.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 12

Day 12 – A 90’s Song

I briefly skirted by my mild antipathy for 90’s music during Day 11, so I think I’ll clarify my position today. I don’t hate 90’s music or anything, I’m just not a very big fan. I enjoy Native Tongue hip-hop from groups like A Tribe Called Quest and Black Sheep, I appreciate the developments happening in pop music near the turn of the century, and I have no doubts in my mind about the quality of 90’s country music, but that’s about where my enthusiasm ends.

For one thing, I’m not a big fan of the R&B movement that happened during most of the early 90’s. For some reason, groups like Boyz II Men and artists like Mariah Carey never caught on with me, and most songs put out during this time sound terribly dated today—while songs from Boston and Steve Miller can arguably stand toe-to-toe with modern rock ‘n’ roll artists, I wouldn’t think twice about wanting to put a song from someone like Janet Jackson up against one from someone like Beyonce (hell, I wouldn’t put it up against one from Kelly Rowland).

Second, I’m not a fan of grunge. Perhaps it’s because I’m a pop music fan, and grunge runs almost counter to the idea of pop music, but artists like Soundgarden, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam simply don’t have enough melody for me to care about them. Not to mention their slightly unorthodox vocal stylings.

Blink-182 – “Josie (Everything’s Gonna Be Fine)”



You know what was good in the 90’s, though? Pop punk. Granted, it was a different breed than the more emotionally-tinged tunes of Fall Out Boy and Jimmy Eat World (your mileage may vary), but the basics were there: fast-paced, energetic songs built with an attention to melody. The 90’s begat many-a decent pop punk acts, including The Offspring, Good Charlotte, and Green Day, who arguably ushered in the whole movement altogether.

Helping lead the post-Green Day pop punk charge was a certain trio called Blink-182, who, in a sea of similar acts, managed to differentiate themselves and achieve both fame and forture as follows: while most late-90’s/early 2000’s pop punk groups wrote bratty, snarky songs about, I dunno, how girls are chubies, or something,* Blink-182 wrote bratty, snarky songs about poop and penises. Again, your mileage may vary.

Occasionally, though, Blink produced semi-romantic love songs, shedding much (though not all) of their sophomoric sensibilities while hanging onto their knack for a good hook. “Josie” is one such track. Really, it’s a very sweet, earnest song about a guy who likes his girlfriend, which seems much more original when delivered vis-a-vis Mark Hoppus’s blazing-fast bass-playing and Travis Barker’s signature spazz-drumming. The verse melody is pretty hummable (notable, especially compared to other modern pop punk songs), and “Josie’s” mixture of romance and unbounding energy make it feel like a can of Monster bought for Valentine’s Day.

Pop punk is a different landscape than it was during the second Clinton administration, but I still enjoy “Josie” and all of its rough edges—similar to the song’s protagonist, “Josie” takes me away to a better place.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 11

Day 11 - An 80's Song

Aw yeah, this is where it's at. It seems like contemporary culture is awash with 80's nostalgia (Hot Tub Time Machine, Conan the Barbarian, etc), and as long as that means it's cool to blast songs from Eddie Money, Rick Springfield, and The Outfield, cashing in on the memories of baby-boomers can only be a good thing (though I also dread the inevitable 90's nostalgia wave of the late-2010's and early-20's, during which we'll doubtlessly see the revival of grunge, Married... with Children, and JNCOs). Anyway, here's an 80's gem I discovered during one of my regular Helena trips last year (thank you, Greg Kihn).

The Scorpions – “No One Like You”



One reason why I like 80's music is because of its preponderance to flat-out “go for it.” This is particularly true with the Glam Rock movement (Hair Metal, for those keeping score at home), with wicked-hot licks, shredding guitar solos, and soaring choruses; and no one made better Hair Metal songs than The Scorpions. There were bands that made “better” music, as well as groups that certainly were more “metal,” but, to me, nothing screams “The 80’s!” more than titanic riffs from the likes of “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” “Big City Nights,” and “Dynamite.”

My favorite, though, is “No One Like You,” a track that reaches the same giddy heights of “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” but shows far greater indulgence to my music cred, because it is slightly more obscure. From the outset, the song kicks open the door with a squeal-y, gnarly-sounding riff that morphs into a dual-guitar harmony, reminding me of the SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron theme song, and being all-the-better for it. Also, as a fan of instrumental start-stops, I like how the guitars drop in and out of the song, providing greater dynamics and sound-variety.

Unfortunately, I don’t think over-the-top metal antics like The Scorpions could work nowadays; there’s too much of a temptation to be ironic, or to position one's self as “better than” the material (minus The Darkness, but every rule has to have an exception). Part of what makes bands like The Scorpions so great is how sincere they are—if he says he’s gonna rock you, you’d better be damn Skippy that he’s gonna rock you, pretensions not included. Still, even without additional entries in the Glam Rock sweepstakes, songs like “No One Like You,” “Holy Diver,” and “Run to the Hills” are still quite rockable to this day. Do yourself a favor: find the nearest drop-top you can, and blast this song while it’s still summer.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 10

Day 10 – A 70’s Song

Can you dig it?!

Or perhaps “jive turkey”?

There must be some sort of 70’s slang that I can use incorrectly here to cover for my lack of a compelling introduction. At any rate, today we’re covering a song from the 70’s, a decade notable for spawning a number of hit movies and TV series that were later remade in the late 90’s and early 2000’s. But I digress.

The Knack – “My Sharona”



Nana NANA na NA na NA nana NANA, nana NANA na NA, NAAA NANAnaaaa.

You're welcome.

“My Sharona” is a song whose popularity has always surprised me. Granted, I think it’s totally awesome, and it’s one of my favorite songs from the period, but it’s been both parodied covered a good deal more than I would have assumed fashionable for a near-one-hit-wonder from the late 70’s. The music snob in me wants to make a crack about how what’s good and what’s popular not often being the same thing, but he can go eat one; “My Sharona” is good because it’s good.

Aside from its iconic guitar lick that I so graciously transcribed in the first paragraph, “My Sharona” has a few tricks up its sonic sleeves. For my money, I love the tom-driven drum part; it gives the song a slightly-off-kilter, but still-driving energy, as well as makes it sound pretty distinct. The vocals aren’t exactly American Idol-caliber, but they have a raw edge that works well with the completely unsubtle sexuality pervading the track. Finally, I know I talked about a guitar solo being a deciding factor in a song for me last time, but damn, the time from 2:47 – 4:15 is pure fret-tapping magic.

And before you ask, I totally was NOT introduced to this song by that one Harmonix game, okay? Weird Al’s “My Bologna” came way before that.


As a side note: I hear that there's a part in Super 8 where the kids arbitrarily break into an acapella rendition of “My Sharona.” Yet another reason I'm sorry I didn't get to that movie while it was still in theaters.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 9

Day 9 – A 60’s Song

The times, they are a-becoming different, here at Diversion 2.0. Today, we’re checking out a song from the sixties, a decade of extreme edginess that sounds way tamer now than it was then.

The Beatles – “Can’t Buy Me Love”



I wanted to avoid putting a song from The Beatles here. I really did. Unfortunately, there’s not a whole lot of love lost between me and sixties Motown doo-wop groups, at least to the extent where I have anything significant to say about them. Then again, I don’t have a heck of a lot to say about The Beatles either, other than I enjoy their earlier, pop-oriented acts more than their experimental flights of musical fancy. At least I’m more familiar with The Beatles than, say, The Isley Brothers.

I first heard “Can’t Buy Me Love” when I was twelve, off of the 1 compilation released during the same year. 1 was my first exposure to The Beatles, partly because my mom listened primarily to country music over all else, but mostly because I was a clueless bugger who liked to play Super Nintendo. I’m not head-over-heels in love with The Beatles like most of the English-speaking world, but I can appreciate a good hook, and The Beatles were nothing if not full of good hooks.

“Can’t Buy Me Love” is one of The Beatles’ earlier pop recordings, and is one of my favorites. I dig the quick-ish tempo, which gives it more energy than something like “From Me to You,” and I like the melody just a smidge better than other songs at the time. The guitar solo is good fun too, and, in my opinion, pushes it over the top from other songs in The Beatles’ early catalogue. And, of course, it’s fun to play on Rock Band.

New life drinking game rule—while reading Diversion 2.0, drink every time the term “Rock Band” is mentioned.

Anyway, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention The Beatles Rock Band, Harmonix’s tribute to The Beatles and their career, which commercially undersold and doubtlessly failed to pay back the astronomically expensive cost to license fourty-seven Beatles songs, as well as three full albums for DLC. Shame, though, for it was a goodie. I split this game with a few friends in college, and we had several good nights of ordering wings from Pizza Hut and jamming to the likes of “Helter Skelter” and “Day Tripper.” Then the disc got misplaced. Bugger all.

To wrap up, I’m not a huge fan of The Beatles, but I respect how influential they’ve been to the modern music scene, and admire the incredible staying power their songs have had. You know who’s better, though? The Be Sharps.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 8

Day 8 – A 50’s Song

We’ve entered the decade-creeping portion of the challenge, where we’ll look at songs from each of the X0’s up until present day. Spoilers. Anyway, I decided to start with the 50’s, since it was the birth of rock ‘n’ roll, and I figured more people have Elvis on their iPod than Glenn Miller.

Barrett Strong – “Money (That’s What I Want)”



My 50’s musical exposure isn’t incredibly deep, and I sometimes need a little something extra if I want to discover new tunes from that era; the proverbial spoonful of sugar for my medicine. In the case of “Money,” I caught it on an episode of Tiny Toon Adventures, during an episode dedicated mostly to animated music videos (to music whose copyrights had coincidentally expired. Hmmm…). The song was sung by Montana Max, an egotistical little twerp whose lust for cash knows few bounds; thematically, it makes a ton of sense.

There’s nothing super special about “Money,” other than a catchy melody and fun guitar line. I certainly enjoy the old-fashioned, bluesy song structure, and dig the guitar riff used during most of the song, but I’m a bit perplexed by the absurd amount of cover versions made of this song. Maybe they thought it was cool because The Beatles did it too?

Whatever. “Money” is a fun bit of 50’s rock ‘n’ roll with a good hook, decent instrumentation, and an old-timey charm; and despite it being in constant rotation at my work’s muzak station, I still enjoy listening to it. Go figure.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 7

Day 7 – A Song from a Movie Trailer

It’s happened to all of us at one point or another: sometimes, a trailer comes along that’s better than the actual movie it’s promoting. Killer editing tricks and careful pacing can help to do the trick (it also helps if the actual film in question sucks), but, for me, the best trailers are the ones with the best music. Good trailer music can provide a solid foundation for the trailer to rest its action on, or it can jump to the front and overwhelm everything with its sheer majesty. Today’s entry definitely occupies the latter camp, and is one of the better trailers that I’ve come across for a movie I haven’t seen.

Coheed & Cambria – “Welcome Home”



A few years ago, an odd duck of an animated feature called 9 released in theaters, doing kinda okay at the box office before quietly exiting the public consciousness. I’m not sure why the film didn’t do well in theaters (or what it did to deserve placing second behind I Can Do Bad All By Myself), but it sure wasn’t because of the trailer. Opening with sparse narration, 9’s trailer does little to contextualize itself, riding instead on the imagination of its visuals, rhythm of its editing, and the classic stand-by sensation that s@$# is going down.

And then there’s the music. I am positive that the trailer for 9 would not be half as fricking sweet if it weren’t for the lead single from Coheed & Cambria’s third full-length release, Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume One: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness (yeah, I know). Goodness knows what compelled them to write it, but somewhere along the line, the Nyack, New York prog-group decided that they really, really wanted to make an epic metal song, and that it had damn well better include the biggest riff they could possibly create. It’s this riff that powers nearly all of the trailer’s use of “Welcome Home,” and its titanic hook and giant symphonic backing give it a reaching, epic feel that most tentpole trailers would kill for.

“Welcome Home” is a continuation of the story established by concept band Coheed & Cambria, though recounting the song’s plot would require three more pages of back-exposition, so I generally take it at face-value. As an album opener, which it basically is, when you take out the two introduction tracks, it’s fantastic; the aforementioned riff kicks the listener in the teeth, and the length and grandeur of the song lets them know of how massive and sprawling this album will be. The immediate four songs help sell the entire rest of the album, but, for me, it all starts with “Welcome Home.” The fact that it’s playable on Rock Band certainly helps sell it for me, but I’m like that.

Huge guitar solos, grand-sounding choral parts, and a bloated run time give “Welcome Home” a feeling of majesty that isn’t often found in music today, but as well as it’s executed, I’ll be damned if it doesn’t deserve it.



PS - Because I can, here's the trailer:

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 6

Day 6 – A Song from a Musical

As a kid who did a lot of theater in both high school and college, I have a healthy portion of sentiment reserved for the musical. And why not—the musical was generally the most fun to perform out of the shows we did, and netted in a larger crowd than the usual theater junkies, making it an even more communal and enjoyable experience. Some musicals get a free pass simply for nostalgia’s sake (even Paint Your Wagon…), but today’s entry is from a bar-none outstanding show, that only the most curmudgeon-y of audience members and bloggers could dislike.

The Producers – “Springtime for Hitler”



Prior to its rebirth as a stage production in 2001, The Producers was a Mel Brooks comedy from 1968 that, while apparently significant enough to make an AFI list and be inducted into the Library of Congress, was not especially well-remembered by many except for Roger Ebert, or at least not as well as Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein. All of that changed, however, when Brooks turned his first directorial production into a Broadway musical, delighting audiences and winning a record-breaking 12 Tonys (for what it’s worth). I would argue that The Producers the musical will live longer than its film counterpart, though I suspect it’s a generational thing.

Regardless of whether it’s on the stage or in the theaters, the crux of the movie is the designed-to-fail play that will (in theory) catapult Max Bialystok and Leo Bloom into fortune: Springtime for Hitler. Both versions feature a rendition of the song, with the play version seguing into another song before coming back home. I personally prefer the play version (and we can plumb even further depths of the meta trench, if we factor in the movie adaptation of the play), but either version is basically a bad-taste-a-thon of The Broadway Melody-era showtune tropes, a number that props one of the most evil men ever on a pedestal, fits him with a dunce cap, and invites the audience to laugh, clown, laugh. And I think it’s bloody hilarious.

If nothing else, “Springtime for Hitler” is an absolute earworm of a song, with instantly-catchy melodies. Brooks has shown a knack for riffing on Broadway pastiches for a while now—remember “I’m Tired” from Blazing Saddles?—but nowhere is he better than in the show’s title number, with a great, sunny demeanor cribbed from an infinite number of corny musicals. “Springtime” goes from straight Broadway, to jazzy, to a surreal faux-“Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and it’s a hell of a trip the whole way. Small wonder it got so much acclaim.

Lyrically, “Springtime for Hitler” knocks it out of the park, with lines like, “We’re marching to a faster pace/Look out, here comes the master race,” and, “Don’t be stupid, be a smarty/Come and join the Nazi Party.” The extended number in the Broadway version, “Heil Myself,” is pretty damn funny as well: “Heil myself, heil to me/I’m the Kraut who’s out to change our history.” Using the word “clever” to describe song lyrics can be a double-edge sword; “clever” can just as often indicate smirking, “ironic” words and messages, e.g. just about anything from Panic at the Disco. “Springtime for Hitler,” along with the rest of The Producers’ book, is the right kind of clever: words that are not only funny, but funny because they’re the only ones that will work, making them doubly-effective (Gilbert and Sullivan achieve a similar effect).

I will admit, I do have a soft spot for this song, and the whole show. I was in a production of The Producers during my junior year of college (where I played Carmen Ghia. Oh hell yes), and was at a particularly good-enough spot in my life to look back on the production with fond, rose-colored glasses. Still, even if I am incredibly biased towards this number because of personal experience, I feel confident in saying that “Springtime for Hitler” is a damn good tune, and one that makes me smile, even in dire times.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 5

Day 5 - A Song from a TV Series

TV and music have gone together basically since the darn thing was invented. Even before shows like Glee and American Idol took hold of America's jones for musical programming, we still had the theme song to Laverne and Shirley and Friends, and we've been humming them ever since. Today's entry is a celebration of music created for the boob tube, or, in modern terminology, the LCD flat panel.

The Simpsons – "We Do (The Stonecutters Song)"

The Simpsons has been a repository of quality tunes since its earliest days, from early dance-crazes to a recent send-up of that one guy who won the Oscar instead of Alan Menkin this year. If "We Do" somehow is not my favorite song out of a pantheon of quality music, it's definitely up there.

"We Do (The Stonecutters' Song)" comes from the season 6 episode "Homer The Great," where Homer becomes the leader of a Masonic secret society called the Stonecutters (get it?). The song comes after Homer is inducted as the Chosen One of the Stonecutters, and is sung as a celebration of what it means to be a member. "We Do" is basically a call-and-response drinking anthem, first asking who performs a certain (and hilariously banal) feat, and answering that "we do." Notable Stonecutter activities include:

• Holding back the electric automobile
• Deliberately obscuring both Atlantis and the Martians
• Rigging the Academy Awards

It's quite a life, being a Stonecutter.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 4

Day 4 – A Song Written for a Movie

I’ll be honest: I really don’t understand movie soundtracks. I mean, they make sense when a movie is a musical, or when a movie prominently features songs on said soundtracks, but I never really get soundtrack albums that are filled with songs that aren’t anywhere close to being featured in their film counterparts (the Godzilla soundtrack is the most egregious example of this I can think of, but I’m sure there are others). Occasionally, though, a song that’s “inspired by” a film breaks through my wall of skepticism and reaches me—in very special cases, it even makes one of my mixes.

Paramore – “Decode”

For those on the unawares, “Decode” is the song that Paramore made for the first Twilight movie. While this should seem like enough to chase me away from the song entirely, the fact that it’s a Paramore song was enough to draw me into an initial listen. I ended up liking it. A lot.

According to Wikipedia, “Decode” represents the tension between Bella and Edward’s forbidden and bubbling-under affection for each other. Sure it does. When I listen to it, I hear an aggressive, urgent tune that almost seems to press the listener on all sides with sonic claustrophobia; the eerie key, off-time drums, and driving chorus make “Decode” seem much more energetic than its plodding pace would normally let on. Hailey Williams’ voice is smashing as always, and I deeply regret that it’s not a bonus track on Brand New Eyes, because it’s quite apparent that they were at least written during the same timeframe.

A story associated with “Decode.” During one of my vacations to Bozeman from school, I was visiting my current roommate at his former place of residence. I mentioned in passing that Paramore had done a new song for Twilight, and asked if he had heard anything about it. I knew that he was mostly into post-hardcore stuff like Bring Me the Horizon and Texas In July, though, so I figured he would have heard about it only in print. To my surprise, he looked over his shoulder to check if his housemates where anywhere nearby, and quickly closed the blinds.

“You never heard this in this house,” he said, and he produced a copy of the song from his iTunes.

Perhaps that’s not an indication of quality for this exceptionally good movie song from Paramore, but I still think it’s pretty damn funny.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 3

Day 3 – A Song from a Favorite Album

Though less than I have been earlier in life, I am an Album Person when it comes to music. I love the way a good album comes together, how all of the tracks complement each other and work in tandem to create a complete sonic package. Heck, I even construct mix CDs like I would an album; things like sequencing and pacing make a difference, doggonnit! I haven’t had the opportunity to dive into new album discovery since I was a sophomore in college, but I still enjoy listening to a CD for the whole experience, especially when on the road.

The Roots – “Web 20/20”

The Roots are my absolute favorite hip hop group, bar none. It’s been a long journey (it was a good six months before I “got” my first album by them, The Tipping Point), but I love their blend of live instrumentation, thoughtful lyrics, and often non-traditional song structure. There’s a very good chance you won’t ever hear them in The Club, but their albums are so good when taken as a whole, I really don’t mind at all.

“Web 20/20” is a track from The Root’s newest disc, How I Got Over, which is probably my second-favorite Roots album after Things Fall Apart. How I Got Over is sonically similar to Things Fall Apart, with an emphasis on jazz-influenced hip hop (more so than any other album they’ve released in ten years) and a vibe that is much more chilled out than either of their past two discs. How I Got Over stands unique in my mind, though, as the only album I can think of with an emotional arc. How I Got Over starts in the doldrums, sounding downtrodden and world-weary (“I Walk Alone,” “Dear God 2.0”) before leveling out and becoming determined (“Radio Daze,” “Now or Never”), and finally rising up, stronger and more optimistic than ever (“Doin’ It Again,” “The Fire”). The whole album progresses from depressed to triumphant, and listening to the whole package is rather rewarding.

After the exultant tones of “The Fire” come the last two songs of the disc, which have absolutely nothing to do with the previous paragraph. The first of these, “Web 20/20” is a callback to The Root’s rhyme-a-thon tracks from several of their previous albums, where emcee Black Thought starts freestyling and doesn’t stop for like three or so minutes. After a rewarding but exhausting trip through emotional uplifting, I rather enjoy the tension-relieving nature that comes from “Web 20/20;” it’s playful, fun, and has an exceptional beat along with Black Thought’s razor-sharp technique. It’s the perfect closer to an already great album.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 2

Day 2 – A Song from a Favorite Artist

During the initial Thirty-Day Challenge, I was asked to name off my favorite track by my favorite artist. This post is on a similar train of thought, but with much less pressure—do you have a favorite artist? Do you have a song you like from them? Bada bing. I didn’t get to talk about these guys last time, either, so here’s a good chance to bring up another one of my absolute favorite artists.

Goodnight Sunrise – “Sideshow Entertainment”

NOTE: This is seriously the only video I could find of this song. I'm half-considering uploading a video of it myself, when I have time.

Friends of mine know that I’m all up in these guys’ business. Strangers are about to find out.

Goodnight Sunrise is a power-pop band from the Helena area (several members graduated high school with my friend Meg), for whom my fandom is appalling. I first caught them at a literal basement show back in 2006, during my first visit home from college, and I’ve been crushing on them since basically the second song into their set. They’ve since moved to Los Angeles, but I still carry high the torch for my favorite Boulder-based pop-rockers whenever I can.

Today’s entry is a track from Close and Counting, the first EP released under their new name; for the first four years of the band’s existence, they went by the moniker Driven Under, and had a much heavier sound. With Close and Counting, Goodnight Sunrise shows a slicker, more accessible sound that nevertheless still boasts an infectious level of energy. The five tracks (and a remix) that make up this EP basically made me a fan for life; they could seriously never release a single lick of new material again, and I would be more than happy to count them among the ranks of my top-tier favorite groups.

“Sideshow Entertainment” is probably my favorite song from Close and Counting—it’s not necessarily the catchiest, but it simply makes me the happiest. The track plays more like a quality album-cut or a b-side, rather than a lead single, and its easy, unforced melody is enjoyable to simple let wash over me. I generally prefer lyrics in my emo songs to err on the side of opacity over beat-you-over-the-head-obviousness that lots of bands practice, and “Sideshow Entertainment” falls comfortably into the former camp; I’m not sure if I can tell you exactly what this particular track about, but I feel like the themes are well-enough represented that I can take the song in broad strokes.

Aside from any given number of sonic reasons, I think a good chunk of this song’s appeal is simply where I was in relation to it. Close and Counting came out during the summer of 2007, which was an especially manic and enjoyable time for one Andrew Testerman. “Sideshow Entertainment” was also featured prominently in a local Helena-based show on Carroll College athletics, where it was the theme song for the program, and damn me if I’m not nostalgic for either of those years. Lastly, I had the honor of attending the show where they retired this and several other songs from Close and Counting in favor of their new material, making it something of a sentimental favorite.

Bottom line: Andrew likes local music, especially local good music, and he urges you to hop on iTunes and purchase Close and Counting, along with the rest of their discography if you’re feeling generous.

Revenge of the Thirty-Day Song Challenge - Day 1

And we're back! Coming off of thirty days of film-related love, Diversion 2.0 is kicking it with another challenge. This time, it's a sequel to a challenge spurred on by Popped Density (and subsequently copied by me) over two months ago, the Thirty-Day Song Challenge. What new content will be brought to the table? What sort of interplay, or at least, inside jokes, will crop up over the course of the challenge? For criminy's sake, will I ever sit down and finally watch Tangled for Our Feature Presentation?! Only time will tell, so sit back and strap yourselves in--the Thirty-Day Song Challenge is back, and it's out for revenge.



Day 1 — A Song You Like Right Now

Golden Earring - "Radar Love"



Boy, I sure do like classic rock, amiright?

That seems to be the moral of this post, and damn-near half of the entries on Diversion 2.0 that are music-related. Suits me fine, though; as long as the lost classics keep coming, I have no shame that I get a good chunk of my "new" music from our local classic rock station. "Radar Love" is yet another instance of "Welcome, Andrew, to 197X."

I discovered "Radar Love" after a particularly harrowing night at work, and the song's driving bass line, appealing minor key, and quasi-hilarious call-and-response between the vocals and guitar soothed me into a better mood. The song puts me into a sort of hypnosis, where the rhythms and melodies propel me forward, no matter what; perfect for when I'm feeling fed-up and generally worn-down, and need to zone out something fierce.

Imagine my general delight when I found out that it was already a part of Rock Band.

It's been about a months since my first experience with this thing that's called radar love (by the way, this song doesn't do anything for me lyrically, but it's me, so that hardly matters at all), but I still fiend after it every once in a while, especially when I need a good track for driving around (which, thematically, is about the most appropriate thing that I could possibly do).



*On a side-note, thank you, dear followers, whomever you are, for your patience. I've worked an incredible amount lately, and haven't had a whole lot of time to write, outside of my lunch break. Fortunately, I should be regulating my schedule a bit better, and the OFPs should be coming more frequently than once a month. Thanks again for your support!