"In those photos, there's a sadness and a message"

Panel from Aquaman No. 2, "Captain Sykes' Deadly Missions", 1962

I freely admit to being unnaturally drawn to projects of questionable value (see "contractual obligation" albums). Some would put concept albums in this category, but I find myself drawn to them like a pretentious moth to an overworked flame. The grander and more ridiculous the concept, the better. Rock operas? Yes please! Song cycles based on literary works? Yes yes yes! Concept records with dialogue tracks telling a story between the songs? Surprisingly, I'm going to draw the line there and say "no thank you". I think it has something to do with my lit studies background that I like to see that some time and thought has gone into the lyrics, and what better evidence is there than having a set of songs telling one story?

One of the most ridiculous (and ridiculously awesome) slept-on concept albums of recent years is Every Scene Needs a Center by Tullycraft. Several things make this album particularly odd - first, Tullycraft is a cute-pop/cuddle-core/twee band from Seattle, a scene not known for high-minded concept records. You could even make an argument that the genre's key signifiers are antithetical to concept records. Second, it's a concept album about a music scene, which is a little unusual. More so because it is not about the twee-pop scene - rather, it is about the intersection of the current indie scene and the popularity of the emo music among today's teens. Song titles like "The Punks Are Writing Love Songs", "Georgette Plays a Goth", "If You Take Away the Make-Up (Then the Vampires They Will Die)", and "Dracula Screams of Tiger Style" all point to a very specific theme, but, oddly, I haven't seen anything written about Every Scene Needs a Center that identifies it as a concept album. Unlike many twee-pop albums, it rewards careful repeat listens as the songs' insights into the goth origins and current state of the emo scene reveal themselves subtly underneath the happy, bouncy melodies.

One thing about the album that is common to concept albums is that a few of the songs link to the core theme only obliquely, if at all. For instance, take "The Lonely Life of the UFO Researcher" - for one thing, it sounds more like the Postal Service than Tullycraft. And, while the sentiment is pretty emo, the story the song tells has nothing to do with scenesters and pop zeitgeist. Still, it's a good song and makes a nice break from the very focused content of the rest of the album. I recommend tracking this one down if you have any tolerance at all for twee pop.

"The Lonely Life of the UFO Researcher" by Tullycraft

"We're gonna see Woody on stage tonight!"

Illustration "The 'Silent Highway'-Man" from Cartoons from "Punch", 1906

Why are songs and albums that are supposed to be terrible so irresistible? Why do people cherish b-side collections and rarities that were never deemed fit for wide release? For instance, I've always been fascinated by a rare creature known as the "contractual obligation album". There are only a few famous (infamous?) ones like Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, Teenage Fanclub's The King, and Monty Python's Flying Circus's aptly named Contractual Obligation Album, but I have a strange compulsion to buy them all, even if they are by definition not worth hearing.

And then there are contractual obligation singles, like the set of songs that Nick Lowe decided to write to end his contract with United Artists, so that he could sign with Stiff Records. For reasons that remain shrouded in mystery, he wrote a set of singles about his love of the Bay City Rollers, the pop group known for "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night!" Nobody is sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere, but, like a lot of cases of phoning it in, Nick Lowe's attempt backfired - "Bay City Rollers We Love You" became a minor hit in Japan, and his stay on UA was prolonged for a while. The songs are great, though, and can be found on a Nick Lowe rarities collection called The Wilderness Years. Here's my favorite - "Rollers Show". (And, even though it should be obvious from the picture at the top of this post, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!)

"Rollers Show" by Nick Lowe

In Stores Now: Titan: It's All Pop by Various Artists

Illustration of Arthur Wellesley Duke of Wellington from Hyde Park and the House of the Grosvenors, a History Thereof by Sir Max Pemberton, 1903

After much waffling, nail-biting, and brain-wracking, I came up with a heading/label for entries about new releases - In Stores Now. It's funny (to me, at least) because you'd be hard-pressed to find any releases I'm writing about in any store within driving distance of your house, unless you live near an impressively-stocked CD store, of which there are six remaining in the continental United States. It's considerably less funny if you consider Amazon.com to be a store. Which, coincidentally, is where I bought the new release from the awesome Numero Group, a collection called Titan: It's All Pop! Exclamation point is in the title, not my added editorial emphasis.

The Numero Group is a boutique reissue label that specializes in investigating forgotten record labels and regional scenes. They have been known to go to such lengths as to finagle a soggy cardboard box of master tapes out of the possession of some former producer's ex-wife through lengthy negotiations. These worn tapes are then remastered and dressed up with extensive documentary liner notes and photos - unbelievably, Numero Group issues up to a dozen of these archivists' dreams a year. They are especially good at reassembling the histories of lost regional R&B labels like Twinight, Deep City, and YoDi, all covered in their Eccentric Soul series of releases.

Their most recent release is a second foray into telling the lost story of underground power pop (the first, Yellow Pills: Prefill is an essential collection of lost hits). This time they are telling the story of Titan Records, a fly-by-night operation out of Kansas City whose entire original discography consisted of a single sampler album and seven singles. How could this be considered a worthy target for their attention? Well, for one thing, almost half of the two-CD set is composed of failed Titan projects that never saw the light of day for one reason or another.

But what about the quality of the material? The sound quality is amazing considering that Titan never made any money - apparently, part of the reason they failed is that they spared no expense in production. And the songs themselves? The liner notes heap praise on the Titan musicians like the Boys, the Secrets* (their asterisk, not mine), Gary Charlson, and Arlis! (his emphasis, not mine), using words like "authenticity", "honesty", and "timelessness". These words are all found in the "rockism" primer and are given little credit in music criticism these days, so I'll set them aside (even though I am something of a rockism apologist). Somehow, against considerable odds, Titan managed to draw a dozen or so REALLY talented songwriters, vocalists, and players. The songs avoid the standard power-pop problem of everything blending together because the songs are distinct and take varied approaches to the pop sound, and the melodies (and harmonies!) are full of memorable hooks. I could pick almost any of the set's 42 tracks to showcase here, but I'm going to go with one that stood out to me on first listen - "Uniform" by the Secrets* from 1980. A little long for a pop song at 4:10, it somehow doesn't wear out its welcome, making the most of harmonies, piano, organ, and chiming guitars. And it sounds a little like "Jack and Diane", although I'm not sure that goes in the plus column. Points for prescience or something.

"Uniform" by the Secrets*

Norman Whitfield (1940 - 2008)

Illustration of the spruce gall-louse from the article "The Spruce Gall-Louse (Chermes Abietis)" prepared for the Bureau of Forestry by Wm. Brodie, Toronto, 1898

I wrote about the passing of Motown legend Levi Stubbs yesterday, but I have to admit that I was more shook up when I heard about the death of Motown songwriter Norman Whitfield earlier this year. I've been learning about Motown through singles collections, and you don't have to hear many Motown hits before coming across a Norman Whitfield tune. He was writing for Motown as early as 1963, and he hitched himself to the Temptations' star fairly early in their rise to fame. By 1967, when the group fired lead vocalist David Ruffin, replacing him with Dennis Edwards (from the second-tier Motown group the Contours), Whitfield had become essential to the band's new sound, heavily influenced by the rise of funk music - the Temptations called their spin on it "psychedelic soul".

Based on that tag, I picked up a couple of the Temptations records from this period, Cloud Nine and Puzzle People, both produced by Norman Whitfield and composed primarily of songs written by him and his writing partner Barrett Strong (of "Money (That's What I Want)" fame). To be honest, the psychedelic flourishes are not a dominating part of the Temptations sound on these albums, but the songwriting and production are strong, and the group's vocals are, of course, amazing. My favorite song from this period is the 1969 hit "I Can't Get Next To You" - the verses give each vocalist a chance to shine, and the influence of funk bands like Sly & the Family Stone can be heard in the scratchy rhythm guitar and the groovy instrumental breaks. It's one of many often-overlooked masterpieces by an unparalleled songwriting talent who will be missed.

"I Can't Get Next To You" by the Temptations

Levi Stubbs (1936 - 2008)

Image "Beatitude" from Phil May's ABC by Phil May, 1897

The world lost two Motown legends recently, and I wanted to write about them from the time I started this blog. Not that I'm a Motown expert or anything - I admit I feel a little like a hypocrite writing about Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops because I only really got to know their music this year, and I'm not much of an R&B/soul enthusiast anyway. But I've started listening to some of the great '60s Motown stuff this year, and it really struck me that I've been missing out. I don't think I'd ever heard "Bernadette" by the Four Tops on oldies radio or anything, and I the first time I heard it, I was blown away by Levi Stubbs' amazing vocals. He passed away in October, leaving behind an amazing body of work. Not just his work with the Four Tops - he was also the voice of Audrey II in the musical film Little Shop of Horrors.

My favorite Four Tops song is probably "I'll Turn to Stone". It was never a hit, although I read somewhere that it was a favorite in the Northern Soul music scene in the UK in the '70s. It was the b-side to "7-Rooms of Gloom", one of the Four Tops' weirder hits (and definitely the Motown title with the weirdest use of a hyphen.)

"I'll Turn to Stone" by the Four Tops

I Saw a Show! Bishop Allen at the Kilby Court, 14 Nov 2008

Photo of Bishop Allen at the Kilby Court by Earl Cahill, 2008

Last Friday night, New York's Bishop Allen came to Utah for the third time. The first two times, they came to Provo and played to a decent-sized crowd at Club Velour (classy name!) This time, they played the Kilby Court in Salt Lake, which holds roughly a third the number of people (even though the attendees at Kilby Court shows tend to weigh about thirty pounds less than those at other shows, making it easier to pack them in). I'm not sure the picture above properly represents the "closeness" we all felt as we watched the performance - not that it's not a good picture (thanks Earl!) The other difference this time around was the material Bishop Allen played. The first time they came through Utah, they were touring the songs on their 2006 EP-a-month project, and they seemed genuinely surprised that anyone showed up to see them. The second time, they were touring on The Broken String and played a very different setlist. This current tour, they are warming up material for their new album Grrr, which is due to come out next Spring. Knowing that they were not going to play all the old favorites going in to the show, I was able to relax a little and let the new songs soak in.

There were three opening acts, only one of which is worth a mention - An Horse from Brisbane, Australia were an indie pop duo that played a nice set of K-Records-style upbeat pop, reminiscent of the first Spinanes record. They managed to get a really full sound from one guitar and drums by sticking to simple song structures and using boy-and-girl duo vocals well. By the time Bishop Allen took the stage, the small "room" was packed tight, but the crowd's real enthusiasm for the group and their songs made the show really enjoyable. Unlike some, I didn't mind that many people sang along on the choruses of the familiar songs - enough of the set was brand new to prevent it from being a pub-style sing-along. The new material is good, although it is, as Christian has said on the band's site, more of a throwback to the Charm School sound. The story-song approach of the EP project has largely been replaced by more hook-oriented, bouncy pop, with layered harmonies and long, wordless "oh oh oh" choruses. Among the new songs, "Ancient Common Sense of Things", "Oklahoma", and "Shanghaied" stood out as real winners. I have enough trust in the skills of Justin and Christian, the band's songwriters, to count on liking their new album a lot. Their energy level was high and they got a great mix out of the Kilby's less-than-stellar sound system, so the show did not disappoint.

Unfortunately, the band's tour van died in Colorado the day after the show, and they ended up leaving Christian behind to get it fixed, traveling on to Chicago with another band that picked them up. I hope that doesn't tarnish their memory of the show - I'd like to think they'll keep their promise to come back in the Spring and play again. For now, here's one of their best story-songs from the February EP, available at their website. It's "Queen of the Rummage Sale".

"Queen of the Rummage Sale" by Bishop Allen

"Plaster Ducks in Pairs, Flying Up the Stairs"

Illustration of F. W. Faulds by E. A. Bushnell from Cincinnatians as We See 'Em, 1905

The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band has a story unlike any other. Formed in London as a Dada-inspired brass combo in 1965, they evolved into a comedy-pop group and one-hit wonder with their McCartney-produced "I'm the Urban Spaceman". Their success is attributable to two bizarre songwriting talents, the erudite oddball Vivian Stanshall and the pop craftsman Neil Innes (who went on to write music for Monty Python's Flying Circus).

Their more unhinged moments are as baffling as anything ever recorded - you don't need to go further than this clip of the band performing "Look Out, There's a Monster Coming" on UK kids' show Do Not Adjust Your Set. There's more reasons than I can count in that clip for not allowing these guys anywhere near children. But their more pop-oriented songs are a real treat, with the strangeness lurking in the dark corners of the lyrics and arrangements. Take "Piggy Bank Love" from their first album Gorilla, for instance - it's a horn-based falsetto ode to lonely women socking their money away in hope of true love. And it somehow invents Belle & Sebastian thirty years ahead of schedule. But there's something...not...quite...right going on there.

"Piggy Bank Love" by the Bonzo Dog Band

It's New To Me: Revolution! by Paul Revere & the Raiders (1967)

Image of Doc Casey, Montreal minor league baseball player, from Piedmont Cigarettes baseball card, c. 1909

The story of Paul Revere & the Raiders starts in Boise, Idaho in the early '60s, where Paul started trying to put a band together. He eventually hooked up with Mark Lindsey, who became the band's lead singer and (eventually) best songwriter. I know the story of the band because the band tells the story in a song called "Legend of Paul Revere", which is included as a bonus track on the CD of their Revolution! album. Seriously, its lyrics tell the story of the band from the beginning in excruciating detail. Apparently, they first made a splash when they relocated to Portland, Oregon as an R'n'B and garage combo, but, listening to Revolution!, it's clear that by 1967 they were moving on to new sounds.

The album has a strange flow to it, starting with a big single "Him or Me" but moving from there to two downbeat numbers. Over half of the tracks on the record are slow songs or genre experiments, but it makes for a fun and unexpected listen. And the upbeat pop songs like "Mo'Reen" and "Gone - Movin' On" stand out more because of the album's variety. My favorite song on the record is probably "Tighter", a brief psych rock number that sounds a lot like the Monkees. Revolution! is good enough to make me want to track down more records from the Raiders' mid- to late-period.

"Tighter" by Paul Revere & the Raiders

"The lights - the sound - the spirit!"

Image by Edmund Dulac from Carmen Sylva's The Dreamer of Dreams, 1900

One of my favorite discoveries of the last year has been a California band called James Rabbit. I heard some good clips on a blog, so I emailed their frontman, wunderkind Tyler Martin, in Santa Cruz and asked him to send me some CDs. I sent him a couple bucks via Paypal, and three James Rabbit albums were in my mailbox a couple weeks later. It's a fairly new phenomenon that I never experienced in the days of conventional mail. It's thrilling to get introduced to a band this way, and the albums didn't disappoint. "Fever Spikes", from their 2006 album Colossuses, captures everything that makes this band fun: the ramshackle charm that gradually coalesces into a full-on pop hook, the borderline pretentious whimsy commonly found in college freshmen, the kitchen-sink-on-a-budget instrumentation, the gang/glee-club vocals and scatting. They're working on a new album now - hopefully, we'll see it early next year. I wonder if its title will start with the letter C? Get James Rabbit music here.

"Fever Spikes" by James Rabbit

It's New To Me: Barrett by Syd Barrett (1970)

Image "Maestros" from Burlesques by Henry Mayo Bateman, 1916

I admit that I don't understand Pink Floyd. Most of the "big rock" of the '70s, including most of what you'd call prog rock and arena rock, hold no appeal for me - something about noodly song-suites, I think. The first Floyd-related thing I ever heard that appealed to me at all (no, not the snippet of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" from the Laser Floyd ads on the radio) was an a capella rendition of a song called "Dark Globe" that Michael Stipe used to do as an intro during REM's live shows. (I know - I've already mentioned REM at least five times in this blog's short history.) I found out that the song was written and recorded by Syd Barrett, the original lead singer of Pink Floyd, but I had no idea how to find a proper recording of it.

Years later, I found a Syd Barrett CD in a used CD store, and it had "Dark Globe" on it. The album was called Opel, and I bought it on the spot. And I found it a much more difficult listen than I expected, all unhinged-sounding singing and tinny acoustic guitar. I started reading up on Syd Barrett and found that he'd only really been in Pink Floyd in the late '60s. By 1970, he had been ousted as lead singer and songwriter because of increasing behavioral problems, apparently related to mental illness or drugs (or both). I found out that Syd had released two proper albums with the help of his friends during his difficult years, after which he faded into anonymity more or less to this day. It turned out that the albums were The Madcap Laughs and Barrett - Opel was an odds-and-ends collection of other recordings by Barrett during the same period. I tracked down The Madcap Laughs and kind of understood the appeal, but I recently bought Barrett, and it's easily my favorite of the three records.

Barrett contains what I think are Barrett's two best-known songs from his solo career, "Gigolo Aunt" and "Baby Lemonade", but the whole thing is as close to a pop record as a troubled soul like Syd could have been expected to create. Apparently, this had a lot to do with Syd's friends taking control of the recording process and limiting his involvement in order to get things done. His distinctive voice still dominates the album, and I am particularly drawn to the song "Wined and Dined". It's fairly fleshed out for a Syd solo song, with Floyd's David Gilmour playing the organ part, but I think its sound has aged fairly well. It shows how Syd could easily have been a major influence on Elliott Smith's songwriting around the time of Smith's self-titled album.

"Wined and Dined" by Syd Barrett

My Favorite Genres: Psychedelia

Image by Matt Baker, from the Classics Illustrated version of R.D. Blackmore's Lorna Doone, 1946

The final stop on our tour of my favorite musical genres is the 1960s. I like a lot of music from the '60s, and I could easily have decided to write about sunshine pop or Motown or something. But like many people my age, I was exposed to Beatles records early in life, and their songs had a lasting impact that shapes the way I look at all music. My most vivid childhood memories of Beatles songs are mostly related to their more psychedelic works like "Yellow Submarine", "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds", and "Norwegian Wood". I remember seeing the movie Yellow Submarine for the first time on VHS and thinking, "Yeah, this is for me!"

Of course, the Beatles didn't invent psychedelic rock - it was one area where they started out behind the curve, copying the new direction of bands like the Byrds. Where the Rolling Stones flirted with psychedelia and moved on, the Beatles immersed themselves in the idea of "mind-altering" sounds and it shaped everything they did, as well as the rest of British psych rock, from that time forward.

There are two distinct flavors of psychedelic rock, British and American. British psych rock was more surrealistic and light-hearted, using fairy tales and nursery rhymes as the foundation for drug-inspired weirdness. American psych rock was more about rough-and-ready garage rock run through a weirdness filter of reverb and distortion. My preference has always been the softer-edged British psych rock, but some of the best psych music was definitely made in the US. The Byrds, Love, and lesser-known bands like the Electric Prunes all made great psych rock records, and I've chosen an Electric Prunes song for today's selection. A non-album single that doesn't get heard as much as their big hit "I Had Too Much To Dream (Last Night)", I think it is actually the best synthesis of their pop songwriting and psychedelic sound. Check out that crazy phased guitar on the bridge!

"Everybody Knows (You're Not in Love)" by the Electric Prunes

My Favorite Genres: Power Pop

Image of "Eclectic Dancer" from The Book of the Dance by Arnold Genthe, 1920

Power pop is a genre that gets little respect. Born in the early '70s, its sound comes from the bands of the British Invasion, incorporating the harmonies of the Beach Boys and the jangle of the Byrds for good measure. But if you had to pin it down, it really all goes back to the Beatles. The early power pop bands Badfinger and the Raspberries were real Beatles acolytes, trying to keep that sound alive in a decade that had moved on to disco and stadium rock.

For me, power pop all starts with Big Star, a Memphis band that only really made two records before disbanding. Frontman Alex Chilton kept the band-name around for one more record, but the band's power pop sound never broke through. However, like the Velvet Underground, they are known as one of those bands that was heard by 100 people, but each of those people started a band of their own. When I was listening to nothing but REM in the early '90s, I paid close attention to bands they referred to as influences, and that led me to Big Star. "September Gurls" is from the second Big Star record, Radio City, and it captures the early power pop sound really well.

"September Gurls" by Big Star

My Favorite Genres: College Rock

Image from Scenario of the Photo-Drama of Creation by Charles Taze Russell, 1914

"College rock" is almost meaningless as an identifier of music because there was never really a single sound that could be associated with college radio in the '80s. The playlists were full of new bands that had built a name for themselves by touring the US relentlessly and releasing records on the new generation of independent record labels - bands like Camper Van Beethoven, the Minutemen, and Husker Du. However, college radio also played whatever was new in the UK, meaning that groups with absolutely nothing in common like English Beat, Sisters of Mercy, and Prefab Sprout were thrown haphazardly into the mix as well.

Luckily, most of the music from '80s college radio was interesting in its diversity, so it's still pretty useful to look for music identified as "college rock". The genre has special meaning to me because of REM, one of the big successes of the college rock scene and my first favorite band. In 1991, "Losing My Religion" became REM's biggest breakthrough single, and hearing it led me to explore REM's discography and then the other bands that had come from the college scene.

Unfortunately, few of the great bands of the '80s college scene broke through the way REM did. For instance, listen to "I Just Get Caught Out" by the Go-Betweens, a band that could be called Australia's REM (Michael Stipe was known to praise the Go-Betweens from the stage on the Green Tour, calling them one of the greatest bands ever.) They never had any kind of mainstream success in the US, including this great song from 1987's Tallulah. Sadly, one of the principle songwriters of the Go-Betweens, Grant McLennan, passed away suddenly two years ago. During a housewarming party thrown for him by some friends, he went to lie down for a little while and had a heart attack - he was 48.

"I Just Get Caught Out" by the Go-Betweens

My Favorite Genres: Lo-Fi/Indie

Image by William F. Zwirner, from The Mary Frances Garden Book or Adventures Among the Garden People by Jane Eayre Fryer

Week one. I'm going to start things off by taking a reverse-chronological tour through some genres of music that have made a difference to me. Flash back to 1992 - I was an avid reader of (gulp) SPIN magazine, even though I didn't have any way of hearing most of the music the publication reviewed or advertised. I thought it was thrilling to read about bands with names like Luna² and I Am Spoonbender, and SPIN writers wrote impassioned endorsements of albums like Slanted and Enchanted by a band called Pavement. The record was described with phrases like "skewed melodies", "buried under tape hiss", and "off-kilter choruses" - they named it their album of the year. Oddly, I didn't hear Slanted and Enchanted until several years later, but the idea of "lo-fi recording" fascinated me and eventually SPIN led me to Guided By Voices.

After reading only a few little blurbs about Guided By Voices, an obscure lo-fi group from Ohio, I knew it was something I had to check out. A band of frustrated thirty-somethings trying to reincarnate the Beatles using garage-sale recording equipment in a suburban basement - what could be better? They had it all - the tape hiss, the tossed-off melodic hooks, the surrealist lyrics. And they had one other key element common among lo-fi musicians. Prolificacy. They were constantly recording and releasing new music. My relationship with music is more or less defined by the two things I learned from Guided By Voices. First, pop melodies can be sweeter when partially obfuscated by a contrasting component (like primitive recording techniques). Second, artists that are dedicated to creating new music constantly and getting it to listeners as quickly as possible create a relationship with the listener that is unique and personal in a way that can be very rewarding.

Today's song is "Key Losers" by Guided By Voices. It's not one of their better-known songs - it was originally released in 1996 on a fanclub-only LP called Tonics and Twisted Chasers. But, apart from being a soft-of personal theme of mine, it exemplifies what I find most rewarding about lo-fi music. Four tracks - a simple guitar figure, a melody vocal, and two harmony vocals that come in at key places in the chorus. The lyrics are gibberish - but are they, really? The singer is singing about something - he must be to sing it the way that he does. And there is a feeling being communicated in phrases like "consistently choking/the roach coach is smoking." And the tape hiss. And the put-on British accent. And the moment when the voices come together on the chorus that first time. And the guitar flub between the bridge and the final chorus. This is what lo-fi pop music means to me.

"Key Losers" by Guided By Voices

By way of introduction...

Image by J. Augustus Knapp, from John Uri Lloyd's 1895 fantasy novel Etidorpha

Welcome to Wires and Waves, a blog that will contain new entries daily (on weekdays) about nothing in particular and for no one in particular. It exists to satisfy I goal I have had to start a blog and see if I can keep it updated for a full year. We will see how that went in November 2009. it also exists to satisfy a compulsion I have to write about music (and film, art, literature, etc.) Writing on paper is SO 20th century, and I have too thin of a skin to participate in any online community or forum, so I plan to write here and be satisfied with the fact that no one will read what I write. I think I prefer it that way, actually.

Today's song (every entry will have at least one song) is the blog's theme, a song from Rilo Kiley's 2001 album, Takeoffs and Landings. It's a good song - not a favorite, necessarily, but I copped out of having to pick a favorite (which would have been agonizing) and elected to use a title and theme song based on a domain name that my wife purchased several years ago. So enjoy the song, my invisible audience of zero, and relish the possibility of an entry similar to this one five days out of seven for at least the next fiscal year.

Here we go...

"Wires and Waves" by Rilo Kiley