7 for the '70s

I've just run 31 miles this week--the most I've ever run in a week, and my legs are tired. My mind, on the other hand, is fresh. So here goes a post that's been percolating for a few weeks--my top songs from the '70s.

The Ballad of El Goodo--Big Star. This might be one of the most perfect songs ever made. Find it and just try to wear it out. I dare you.

Life on Mars--David Bowie. Sometimes Bowie sounds flat to me. Not his pitch. It's the production. This is an exception. Listen to the crisp piano and the echo of the snare. Perfect. I love the line about "linens on sale again." Oh and I almost forgot that scientific query, "Is there life on Mars?"

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road--Elton John. I love that Bernie and Elton write sounds about famous people. My daughters love the Wizard of Oz, and I like it alright myself. The real kicker however is the AAH AAAH AAAAHS.

Maybe I'm Amazed--The Faces. Rod Stewart really knows how to sing others' songs. This is a Paul McCartney song by the way. I love the dirty guitar and the keyboard. This is a live version, Wellz, so take note. I don't hate all live recordings. This one is actually superior to the studio version.

Instant Karma--John Lennon. I was obsessed with all things Beatles for a long time. I still here a Beatles' song on mixtapes or commercials, and I can't deny that they really are top drawer. One thing I learned from my obsession is that John Lennon always wanted to write a song using the 3 note melody from 3 blind mice, and here it is in all its glory. "We all shine on."

Going to California--Led Zeppelin. This is the other band that I was obsessed with. From 7th to 9th grade I could sing all the lyrics and even hum the guitar solos. I started playing guitar because of Jimmy Page, and, if I ever did anything that might be classified as crazy, it was Led Zeppelin's fault. I know this song isn't very representative of the band, and my feelings toward California are tepid at best, but this song really makes me feel all '70s and shi@.

Shine a Light--The Rolling Stones. My first Stones' album was Exile. When choosing favorites, first impressions usually hold a lot of pull for me. I know it did with the Stones. It probably doesn't hurt that this is one of the greatest albums around. I won't say much more. In fact, let's fade into some kind of montage.

The Best of My Guilty Pleasure

This is a confessional. I'm a sucker for Romantic Comedies--Chick Flicks. My wife knows, and she's alright with it. So here are 5 of my favorites:

Annie Hall--Woody Allen kills me. Anyone who would cast himself as the bumbling idiot more than once is OK with me. This movie is funny, Jim Carrey. Alvey, that's Woody's character, claims that the only cultural advantage that California has over New York is thd fact that a person can turn right on a red light. Oh, and to all you vintage Disney freaks, Alvey's good friend is the guy from The Million Dollar Duck.

50 First Dates--People say I look like Adam Sandler. He's funny not handsome. Nonetheless, this movie helps me come to grips with the fact that I just might look like him. Plus as Wellz says, "It's the locale." I'm a sucker for islands. The soundtrack has some nice '80s covers.

High Fidelity--This one's based on the book by Nick Hornby, which has moments and emotions that seem to nicked straight from my life. It's all about music, arguing about what's cool and what isn't. Another nice soundtrack. Jack Black plays a sidekick music snob that makes me laugh. Jack Black is an actor I want to hate but still haven't found a reason yet.

Bringing Up Baby--This is an old film--black and white if I remember right--starring my favorite actor, Cary Grant. My wife says I have a genre of joke that I just use the crap out of, and I just realized that it's stolen from Cary Grant. This is a classic. It's a usual on best-films-of-all-time lists.

Notting Hill--Romantic Comedies would probably be a long forgotten genre if it weren't for Hugh Grant. I think I have a man crush. This movie makes me love people. Worth the price of admission if just to see his roommate and corroborate ST's claim that Julia Roberts doesn't have one of those dimples between her nose and lips.

Well, I'm keeping my posting goal and ran the last of 30 miles for the week. I'm reading a poem or 2 a week from John Berryman's Dream Songs and continuing to dive, a finger at a time, into Spanish literature. Until next time. Vis.