Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #21 - "Pulaski," Drive-By Truckers

I used to see the Drive-By Truckers pop up on a regular basis in the Pazz & Jop poll, but it wasn't until 2010 - thanks to Jean, a colleague and friend - that I bought my first DBT album.  Almost a decade later, they're way up there in my list of pantheon artists, and two of their albums in the 2010s were among the decade's very best.

One of the great delights in following the band over the past decade has been the blossoming of Mike Cooley as a full-fledged equal to Patterson Hood.  Cooley's always been in the band, and has always written great songs, but up through 2014's "English Oceans," the ratio of Hood to Cooley songs was probably in the 3-1 range.  But on their last two albums, which one could easily argue are their very best, it's been much closer to 50-50.

This is a story song, and the story it tells is a tragedy.  It's worth your while to give the lyrics a good listen.



And here, a live performance of the song:



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #21 - "Pulaski," Drive-By Truckers

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #22 - "Boom Clap," Charlie XCX

I've always been a sucker for a perfect pop song - I think because of all those years spent listening to AM radio.  There was always a lot of dreck, but there were also plenty of home runs. 

"Boom Clap" would have fit in perfectly during that era.  But it's also great for this one.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #22 - "Boom Clap," Charlie XCX.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #23 - "Helplessness Blues," Fleet Foxes

The best word to describe the songs on the first two albums by Fleet Foxes is "beautiful."  "Helplessness Blues" is one of their best, and it feels almost like two songs in one.  And they're both equally good.



The song has also inspired a lot of thinking about exactly what it means.  I've seen it interpreted as a commentary on capitalism vs. socialism, and I've seen it described as "an incredibly powerful expression of living out the Gospel and the will of God in our lives."  I'm not sure I subscribe to either of those theories, but in the end that's less important than appreciating the sheer beauty of the music itself.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #23 - "Helplessness Blues," Fleet Foxes.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #24 - "I Like That," Janelle Monae

"I'm the random minor note you hear in major songs."

A full reading of the song's lyrics is in order for this one.  It's a beautiful expression of someone clearly recognizing that they are not quite in sync with the world at large, and being completely comfortable with that status.  As she sings in the final verse, "I always knew I was the shit."

Add in a beautiful melody, and well...I may very well be underrating this one.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #24 - "I Like That,"  Janelle Monae.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #25: "Every Time I Hear That Song," Brandi Carlile

It's been a pretty, pretty good few years for Brandi Carlile, especially the last two - an outstanding solo album, an incredible performance on the Grammy Awards, and then being one of the auteurs behind The Highwomen.  Not bad at all.



This is another one of those songs that clicked for me the very first time I heard it.  And it's only gotten better as time has passed. 

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #25 - "Every Time I Hear That Song," Brandi Carlile.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #26 - "Hold On," Alabama Shakes

Once in a blue moon, you hear a song for the first time and you think, "that's it - that's a stone cold classic, and it will be forever."  "Hold On" is one of those songs.  The great thing about it is its timeless nature.  If you played it for a musical Rip Van Winkle, he/she would have difficulty deciding whether it was from the Sixties, Seventies, 80s...you get the idea.



Brittany Howard recorded her first solo album this year, but I hope we hear more from Alabama Shakes.  But even if we don't, there was one good album, one great album, and this timeless song.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #26 - "Hold On," Alabama Shakes.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #27 - "Runnin' Just in Case," Miranda Lambert

There's trouble where I'm going
But I'm gonna go there anyway
I hate Sunday mornings
Cause they always seem to start this way
I'm looking for a lighter
I already bought the cigarettes
Guess I picked me up a habit
On my way out of Lafayette



The absolute brilliance of this song made it difficult for me to get into the album from which it came, only because I kept coming back to this one.  She's had a great career and the album she released last month shows there's a lot more to come, but I'm not sure she's ever going to top this song.  And if she does, check back here in ten years.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Runnin' Just in Case," Miranda Lambert.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Fade," Sleater-Kinney

This is my theory, and I'm sticking with it.  I'm convinced that when Sleater-Kinney wrote and performed "Fade," they were channeling mid-seventies Roxy Music.

Specifically, one song in particular - "Song For Europe," from "Stranded." 

Hear me out on this - the first few dozen times I listened to "Fade," it absolutely drove me nuts trying to figure out which song "Fade" was making me think of.  Let's give it a listen:



And then, the great Bryan Ferry singing "Song For Europe":



Listen to the song structures.  Listen to the vocals.  And more than anything else, listen to the drums from Janet Weiss and Paul Thompson.

You can't convince me otherwise.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Fade," Sleater-Kinney.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #29 - "Over Everything," Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile

What I love most about this song is the chaos that breaks out with the two guitars about four minutes in.  And from that point on, it never lets up.  It's like two cars playing chicken, but in this instance neither one stops, and somehow everyone manages to survive the ensuing crash.

This was a great collaboration; I hope they record another album someday.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #29 - "Over Everything," Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #30 - "Hadron Collider," Blood Orange feat. Nelly Hurtado

Blood Orange is a group that my son introduced me to - although it's less a band than the work of one man, Devonte Hynes, who also was known at one time as Lightspeed Champion.



Not only am I not sure how this connects to the Hadron Collider, I don't really care.  This is one that I love just for the music and the arrangement.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #30 - "Hadron Collider," Blood Orange feat. Nelly Furtado.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #31 - "Touch," Daft Punk feat. Paul Williams

You can judge for yourself, but I'm pretty sure this is the strangest song on the list.  And if you head over to one of the websites where people theorize on the meaning of song lyrics, you'll see that there are quite a few interpretations of what it all means. 

For me, that's less important than the sheer musical audacity of the whole thing.  The first two minutes - which from time to time, I'm tempted to just skip through - are machine-like, and then the first vocal you hear is that of Paul Williams - Paul Williams, the Phantom of the Paradise himself!  Who even knew that he was still singing.



But it's the last four minutes of the song that turn it from a musical curiosity into a damn masterpiece.  What does it all mean?  I'll settle for it being a statement that even within the insular world of technology and machines, love and beauty can prevail.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #31 - "Touch," Daft Punk feat. Paul Williams.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #32 - "Ever South," Drive-By Truckers

Drive-By Truckers have been around now for more than 20 years.  They've gone through numerous personnel changes (at one time, Jason Isbell was a member), but the heart of the band has always been the duo that jokingly refers to themselves as "The Dimmer Twins": Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley.  Of the two, Hood has been the more prolific songwriter, though that's changed a bit on recent albums.  Born and raised in Alabama, Hood has frequently written and sung about what he calls "the duality of the Southern thing."  In an earlier song, he sang about "the three great Alabama icons" - George Wallace, Bear Bryant, and Ronnie Van Zant.  As that particular song segues into the next, Wallace is seated with Devil down in you-know where, sipping an ice cold glass of sweet tea.

A couple of years ago, Hood moved with his family to Portland, Oregon, nearly a continent away.  "Ever South" chronicles the history of his family in the south, the move to Portland, and in the final verse closes with the recognition that no matter where he lives, he is always going to be "ever south."  

Ever Southern in my carriage, ever southern in my stance

In the Irish of my complexion and the Scottish in my dance

In the way I bang my head against my daily circumstance

Let this blue eyed southern devil take you out upon the prowl

With decadence and chart we'll take it into town

Tell you stories of our fathers and the glories of our house

Always told a little slower, ever south

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #32 - "Ever South," Drive-By Truckers

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #33 - "My Only Child," The Highwomen

There's always room for a tear-jerker.  And in the instance of this particular song, I'm not sure whether it's the lyrics or the beautiful harmonies that do the trick.



I wrote about The Highwomen earlier this year, but for those unlucky enough not to have been introduced to the group yet, the members are Brandi Carlile, Amanda Shires, Natalie Hemby and Maren Morris.  Their debut album (I'm hoping it's not a one-shot deal; I suspect it won't be) is one of 2019's best.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #34 - "The Isolation of Mister," John Mellencamp

John Mellencamp, grizzled veteran.  It's been one of the most remarkable transformations in the history of rock music.  It's one of my favorite stories.  When he first emerged in the late 1970s, his management packaged him as a pretty boy, almost David Bowie-ish, type.  It went about as well as one would have expected.

By the early 1980s, he was John Cougar Mellencamp.  He had a couple of massive hit singles, and by the mid-eighties the albums he was releasing were as good as anyone's.  He'd reclaimed his career, and his name.  From that point on, he's been John Mellencamp.



Mellencamp described the song in a 2014 interview as "a song about men and how we rationalize and isolate ourselves from our regrets and mistakes."



Reinvention, artistic redemption, and ultimately triumph.  Not bad for a career arc.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #35 - "Dream Baby Dream," Bruce Springsteen

Yes, I know it's a cover song - and yes, I know a lot of people think that Bruce's version pales in comparison to the 1979 original by Suicide.  That's OK.  I wouldn't have any qualms about including this version on a career-spanning Best Of by Bruce. 



But of course it was the video for the song that really connected me with it.  This is the sort of thing that an artist lesser than Bruce Springsteen might not be able to get away with.  But for him, it made perfect sense.  I don't know the full story behind the video, but one has to wonder whether Thom Zimny came up with the concept after turning his camera on the crowd to get their reactions to what they were hearing.

Nearly 40 - Forty! - years ago, Greil Marcus wrote, "The implicit promise of a Bruce Springsteen concert is that This Is What It's All About - This Is the Rock."  Going on, Marcus observes:

Having posited a tradition Springsteen performs as if every bit of it is backing him up - rooting for him.  This allows him to hit the boards as if his status as a rock 'n roll star is both privileged and ordinary, and the result onstage is a unique combination of authority and prank.  It means that at his finest, Springsteen can get away with almost anything, stuff that coming from anyone else would seem hopelessly corny and contrived - and that he can come up with stuff to get away with that most rockers since Little Richard would be embarrassed even to have thought of.

You get a sense of that watching the video - but in the end, it's the song that ties it all together.  Bruce Springsteen has lived a dream, and the rest of us have had the privilege to hop on board every once in a while.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #35 - "Dream Baby Dream," Bruce Springsteen.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #36 - "Wayfaring Stranger," Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi

Without a doubt, this is the oldest song on the list.  "The Wayfaring Stranger" dates back to the early 19th Century, and has been recorded and sung by countless artists - Burl Ives, Johnny Cash, Jack White, Natalie Merchant, Emmylou Harris...the list is endless.

This is a remarkable recording.  In my last post I wrote about the emotions that music evokes.  The emotions this song elicits are so powerful that they become a physical force.  When Rhiannon Giddens reaches the last verse and the line, "I'm going home to meet my savior...", it's overwhelming.  And that last note which Francesco Turrisi draws from his accordion...miraculous is the only word that does it justice.

A live performance:



And the original recording:



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #36 - "Wayfaring Stranger," Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #37 - "i love you," Billie Eilish

Hypnotic.  That's really the best word to describe this song.



And this is a remarkable video.  It reminds me of one that you'll be seeing in a few days.  This is the kind of raw emotion that music is supposed to elicit from those who are listening. 

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #37 - "i love you," Billie Eilish.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #38 - "Springsteen," Eric Church

First, a story.

Right before Christmas in 2011 - I'm thinking it was probably December 23 - I found myself needing to make one last run to Target, in search of trinkets (and the like) for gifts.  Before heading out on this dubiously thought-out excursion, I made a general announcement to the family, to find out if anyone else needed me to pick up something.  Son #2 asked if I could pick up a copy of Eric Church's album "Chief" for him.  When I expressed surprise - he'd never shown any inclination to enjoy country music in the past - he said it was for a friend who was a fan.  OK, no problem.

Fast forward to Christmas morning, when we're taking turns playing Santa and opening gifts from each other.  I'm handed a wrapped gift that is obviously a CD, and by now I've pretty much figured out what it's going to be. Yep, "Chief" by Eric Church.  Definitely a Hall of Fame Christmas moment.



Funny how a melody sounds like a memory
Like the soundtrack to a July Saturday night
Springsteen

Hopefully, everyone has songs that evoke memories so powerful that sometimes they hurt - even if the memory is a pleasant one.  That's what music is all about.  And that's what Eric Church is singing about in "Springsteen."  Clearly he loves Bruce and his music, but it's also about the life he was living at the time those songs were on the radio.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #38 - "Springsteen," Eric Church.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #39 - "How Much a Dollar Cost," Kendrick Lamar

Rather than reinvent the wheel, for this song I'm reprinting something that I wrote more than four years ago, shortly after Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly was released.  Under normal circumstances I'd tinker with the wording, but this seems to be OK. 



...Today I want to focus on "How Much a Dollar Cost," which I've had on continuous loop in my head for the past four days.  Even before I was entirely certain of what Lamar was saying in the song, the music drew me in.  Finding words to do it justice are difficult.  "Ominous" comes to mind, but also "stately," "compelling" and ultimately "thrilling."  Hearing it for the first time (during my commute into work, and I immediately proceeded to listen to it four consecutive times), I felt the thrill that comes with hearing a song you suspect on first listen will become an enduring classic.  That doesn't happen too often, and when it does it's with a song like "Gimmie Shelter," "Every Breath You Take" or "Rolling in the Deep."  That's the kind of power the song held, which was only strengthened when I - with the help of Genius.com - began to hear and understand what the song was all about.

The song begins with the narrator, who has just "parked his luxury car," encountering a homeless man on the streets of South Africa, who asks him for ten rand (roughly, $1).  The assumption in the first verse is that the dollar will go towards crack:

Contributin' money for his pipe, I couldn't see it
He said, "My son, temptation is one thing that I've defeated
Listen to me I want a single bill from you 
Nothin' less, nothin' more"
I told him I ain't havin' it and closed my door
Tell me how much a dollar cost

In the second verse, the man won't stand down, and the narrator feels a growing sense of frustration:

I never understood someone beggin' for goods
Askin' for handouts, takin' it if they could
And this particular person just had it down pat
Starin' at me for the longest until he finally asked
Have you ever opened up Exodus 14?
A humble man is all that we ever need
Tell me how much a dollar cost

Near the end of the first two verses, you begin to hear a voice, almost hiding in the background, with what can almost describe as a plaintive moan.  On my first few listens I didn't even notice it, but once I did I couldn't get it out of my head - haunting may be the best way to describe it.

In the final verse, the narrator questions himself but then increases the intensity of his attacks on the man, until the dramatic and unexpected climax:

The jig is up, I seen you from a mile away losin' focus
And I'm insensitive, and I lack empathy
He looked at me and said "Your potential is bittersweet"
I looked at him and said "Every nickel is mines to keep"
He looked at me and said, "Know the truth, it'll set you free
You're lookin' at the Messiah, the son of Jehovah, the higher power
The choir that spoke the word, the Holy Spirit
The nerve of Nazareth, and I'll tell you how much a dollar cost
The price of having a spot in Heaven, embrace your loss, I am God"

And at this moment, Kendrick hands the song to Ronald Isley, who sings a beautiful plea for forgiveness that ends with these words:

Shades of grey will never change if I condone
Turn this page, help me change, so right my wrongs

Powerful doesn't do the song justice, and this is just one of many great (if complex, and sometimes hard to hear) moments on the record. No doubt, To Pimp a Butterfly is an album of great depth, one that both speaks to the times and reacts to them.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #40 - "Hope the High Road," Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

Jason Isbell's story is one of redemption; one of triumph.  Fired by the Drive-By Truckers in 2007 for his tendency to be a drunken jerk, his career really took off over the past decade, after he cleaned himself up, no doubt with a huge assist from Amanda Shires, who had a pretty good decade of her own.  His band's album "The Nashville Sound" was the best record of 2017, and before that he'd scored with consecutive killers, "Southeastern" and "Something More Than Free."

He's got a great sense of humor, evidenced by his concert patter and almost daily on his Twitter feed.  But this song is 100 percent serious, and the video helpfully includes the lyrics so it's easy to follow along.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #40 - "Hope the High Road," Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #41 - "Grand Paradise," Foxing

"Foxing is an American indie rock band from St. Louis, Missouri."  So begins the band's Wikipedia page, but that description hardly seems to do them justice.  Mind you, I'm not quite sure how I'd characterize them either - is "American indie art rock band" a valid category?  And even that isn't entirely accurate.  Maybe when you can't pigeonhole an artist, that's a good thing.



The first time I heard this song - on the video you see above - I knew it was right up my alley.  I immediately texted the link to two friends - one of whom shared my enthusiasm, the other who responded, "I gave up after two minutes.  I don't get it."  And I understand that.  It's not exactly mainstream.

The Thanksgiving holiday weekend isn't over yet, so I want to close this post by acknowledging and extending thanks to Michele Catalano for introducing me to Foxing.  We've never met, but she's one of the handful of people that I've read/connected with on social media since beginning this blog 13 years ago.  She's an excellent writer - you can read her essays at Medium (https://medium.com/@inthefade), or follow her on Twitter @inthefade.  Her music tastes don't always merge with my own, but I've bought (and really liked) several records based on her recommendations.  So...thank you, Michele.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #41 - "Grand Paradise," Foxing.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #42 - "Bloodbuzz, Ohio," The National

Without a doubt, The National would be on my short list of Artists of the Decade.  Since 2010, they've released four albums that range from very good to outstanding: High Violet, Trouble Will Find Me, Sleep Well Beast and I Am Easy to Find.  If this list went to #100, there would be at least two more of their songs making the cut.  But even though this song is from what is my least favorite album of theirs in the decade, it is the single best song they've recorded during the period.



"Bloodbuzz, Ohio," The National, clocking in at #42.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #43 - "The Point of It," Yo La Tengo

The first Yo La Tengo album I bought was on vinyl, and I don't mean the recent return of vinyl as a dominant musical format.  I mean vinyl back when it was in its initial death throes, and those of a certain age became nostalgic because now we were going to have to buy our music on these CD things, which weren't even close to being as aesthetically pleasing.

In other words, it was a long time ago.



"Fade" is a great album, probably my favorite of theirs.  This is my favorite song on it.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #43 - "The Point of It."

The 2019 Big Game - The Axe is Back!

It had been so long since Cal had won The Big Game that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.  To lend perspective, Barack Obama had been President for less than a year.  My, how much has changed since then.

Jeff Tedford was Cal's coach, and their 2009 victory on the Farm was the Bears' seventh Big Game triumph in eight years.  It seemed at the time that the good times would never end.  Except when they did, the following year.

A 9-year losing streak was bad enough, but making it even worse was the fact that very few of those games even approached being competitive.  No, the Cardinal pretty much kicked our ass for a decade.

With yesterday's thrilling 24-20 win - the Bears never held the lead until Garbers' touchdown scramble with 1:19 left in the game - Cal is bowl-eligible for a second straight year.  This year had the potential to be much more, but key injuries brought the team down a peg.  But no question, Justin Wilcox has the team on the right track.  If you're a Cal fan, you can't really complain about a season where you went to a bowl game and beat Stanford.

And it's been a long time since we've been able to say that.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #44 - "Things Have Changed," Bettye Lavette

The best Bob Dylan album of the decade was recorded by a 72-year old African American woman.  Well, of course it was.  

A few years back I was lucky enough to be invited to participate in Jack Gallagher and Tommy Dunbar's podcast, "5 Songs."  At some point during our conversation, I commented that my approach to music was that the best song ever written "was somewhere out there, but I just haven't heard it yet."  It's not a perfect comparison, but Bettye Lavette is a good example of that.  She's been out there forever, and it wasn't until I saw her 2018 album included in Greil Marcus' "Real Life Rock Top Ten" column that she was introduced to me.  That's to my discredit.  

The great thing about her song choices on the album is that, with one notable exception, she didn't go for the obvious songs.  To be fair, Dylan did win an Oscar for this song, but if you picked out 100 music fans and asked them to write down their Top Ten Dylan songs, I'd hazard a guess that this one wouldn't be on too many lists.

It's also a classic example of an artist, in a cover version, making the song their own.  My guess is that Dylan himself prefers this version.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #44 - "Things Have Changed," Bettye Lavette.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #45 - "The Devil Named Music," Chris Stapleton

Chris Stapleton had been around forever, and outside of the country music world, very few people had heard of him.  Then he sang with Justin Timberlake at the Country Music Awards in 2016, and all of a sudden he was everywhere.  It's an old story, and one of the best - the songwriter toiling behind the scenes, who all of a sudden becomes a superstar himself.  Think Willie Nelson.

This is a big claim, but I really think that "The Devil Named Music" is the best road song since Bob Seger's "Turn the Page."  The themes are similar.  Seger's great song starts like this:

On a long and lonesome highway

East of Omaha

You can listen to the engine

moanin' out his one note song

Stapleton leads with this:

We drove all night to Billings, Montana

Flew into Utah, slept there all day

I can't remember stopping in Denver

Yeah, I live my illusion that somebody needs to me play

And then, compare the key verse from Seger:

Here I am, on the road again

There I am, up on the stage

Here I go, playin' star again

There I go, turn the page

With the key verse from Stapleton:

And sometimes I'm drunk

And sometimes I'm stoned

And yes, I get tired of being alone

I miss my daughter

And I miss my wife

But the devil named music is taking my life.

Like Seger before him, Stapleton toiled for a long time in relative obscurity, and we are blessed to have songs depicting that life from both of them.

#45, Top 50 Songs of the Decade: "The Devil Named Music," Chris Stapleton.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #46 - "I Can't Give Everything Away," David Bowie

I've said before that David Bowie never quite had a direct line to my heart like he did for so many others.  But there's no questioning his greatness; if you want to use the word "genius" I won't complain and I won't argue.

This is the last song on the last album that Bowie recorded.  "Blackstar," much like Warren Zevon's "The Wind," was incredible as much for its circumstances as for its songs.  Like Zevon, Bowie knew he was dying when he recorded it.  That one can argue that it was his best album - which I think you can - is a miracle.

"I Can't Give Everything Away" isn't just the album's last song - it's the album's best song.  It is an example of everything that David Bowie did well during his remarkable and historic career.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #47: "This Is the World of the Theatre"

It's time to pick up the pace on this little project.

Today, let's talk about The New Pornographers.  How about that band name?  It never fails to get a reaction when I include one of their songs on one of my compilations, and one has to wonder how many potential fans have quickly walked away in the record store when they see it.

In a perfect world, they'd be a gosh darn hit machine.  There may not be another band in the last twenty years that's created songs with such great hooks.  The musicianship is terrific, and the vocal interplay among the band's members is downright awe-inspiring.  When it comes to bands from Canada, they just might be the very best.  They've never recorded an album quite as good as "Neon Bible" or "The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire, but "Challengers" (2008) came close, and overall their output has been more consistent.  Call it a draw.

And for a bonus, here's the recorded version.



"This Is the World of the Theatre," The New Pornographers.  The #47 song of the decade.

Oakland Raiders vs. San Diego Chargers

Sports have always had a way of breaking your heart.  A disappointing season; a painful loss; a favorite player being traded or moving away via free agency.  There are myriad ways it can happen.  And, perhaps because of the way we are wired as humans, we remember those moments far more than we remember the good times.  As a fan of Bay Area teams for most of my life, I've got nothing to complain about - five Super Bowl championships for the 49ers, three World Series championships for the Giants, a similar number for the Athletics and Raiders back when I was a kid and rooted for all the Bay Area teams equally.

And while those were great moments, none of it completely washed out the memory of the 2002 World Series (dear Lord, please don't let him face another batter), the 1983 NFC Championship Game (that was NOT pass interference!), or the 1990 NFC Championship Game (Jeez, Roger Craig, just hold on to the ball, and we win - is that really too much to ask?).  It's not logical, it's not rational - but it is what it is.

But the worst way to break the heart of a sports fan is for an entire team to leave.  Just ask fans of the Brooklyn Dodgers, the Seattle Supersonics, the Los Angeles Rams, the St. Louis Rams, the St. Louis Football Cardinals, the Montreal Expos...

And the Oakland Raiders and San Diego Chargers.



Back in 1980, the Raiders and the Chargers were the two best teams in football.  They played an AFC Championship game that year which was much more memorable than the Super Bowl that was played two weeks later.  There were nine future Hall of Famers on the field that day: Gene Upshaw, Art Shell, Ted Hendricks, Dave Casper, Ray Guy, Dan Fouts, Kellen Winslow, Charlie Joiner, and Fred Dean.  Also on the field that day were two players that won the Heisman Trophy: Jim Plunkett and John Cappaletti.  Pro Bowl players on the field that day included Mark Van Eeghen, Cliff Branch, Bob Chandler, Raymond Chester, John Matuszak, Matt Millen, Lester Hayes, John Jefferson, Louie Kelcher, and Gary Johnson.  The coaches were Tom Flores and Don Coryell.

Two landmark teams.  Two landmark franchises.  And soon, both to be gone, perhaps forever.

The Raiders and the Chargers played a game last night.  The Chargers now play in Los Angeles, but Troy Aikman called them "San Diego" at least once.  And that's only right - because for those who believe in fairness and justice, they will always be the San Diego Chargers.  It may have been the best game of the season, so far.  It was far from perfect.  But it had the atmosphere of the greatest games - an atmosphere that you rarely see in the regular season.  It was glorious.



And, barring a postseason appearance, it was the last prime time game that will ever be played at the Oakland - Alameda County Coliseum.  And that is a shame.  And there is plenty of shame to go around: the families that own the teams, the greed-based mindset that guides the NFL in the 21st Century.  Since there is no fan base for the Chargers in Los Angeles, I doubt that I'm offending anyone by suggesting that L.A. does not deserve this team. And while I'm sure there are many fine, dedicated football fans in Las Vegas, they do not deserve the Raiders.

For me, they will always be the OAKLAND Raiders and the SAN DIEGO Chargers.  Perhaps in my lifetime, they will be again.  After all, it happened once before.  This time, I'm not holding my breath.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #48: "Poison & Wine," The Civil Wars

How much does one need to know about a song to enjoy and appreciate it?  Is it better to have all the background, all the facts?  Or should you just let the mystery and the music envelop you?

John Paul White on the song:

"That song probably does sum us up - The Civil Wars, the name of the band - as well as any song that we've written.  We're all married, and we were all talking about the good, the bad and the ugly, and just felt like: What would you say to someone if you were actually brutally honest - the things that you could never say because it would turn them away or let the cat of the bag or reveal yourself to be weaker?  What would you actually say if you had this invisible curtain around you and could just scream it in somebody's face and they'd actually never hear it?  We were all being very painful honest, because we're very comfortable around each other and know that things like that never leave the room, except in a song.  I'm pretty proud of that song, to be honest."

In the case of "Poison & Wine," there may have been a little foreshadowing involved as well.  The duo stuck together for one album after "Barton Hollow" (on which this song appeared), and then called it a quits right in the middle of a tour. 

It's not a word I'd often use to describe a song, but this one is exquisite.  And even if you set the lyrics and the meaning aside, you can indeed just let the music wash over you.

#48 - "Poison & Wine," The Civil Wars.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #49 - "Your Dog," Soccer Mommy

From time to time, people ask me where I find the music in my collection.  Back in the old days, it was different - there were several Tower Records stores in town, and after that Dimple Records.  Browsing through the stacks of records (CDs later, but that was never as much fun) is one of the best memories of my lifetime.  Sometimes, I'd buy an album based solely on the album cover - The Pretenders' debut album comes to mind.  When you looked at that cover, how could you not think "this is going to be good?" 

Well, those days are over, and in this town (Sacramento) there's no longer a store that stocks enough records or CDs to make browsing worth one's time (or even possible, for that matter).  Today, I rely on several different online publications - Pitchfork, American Songwriter, No Depression, even Rolling Stone at times (especially when Rob Sheffield is writing) - for recommendations on new artists, or artists I'm not familiar with.  And then there are the old reliables, and in this case I do mean old - Greil Marcus and Robert Christgau.  Marcus doesn't write album reviews much any more, but his Real Life Rock Top Ten - wherever it may be residing at any given moment - has always been an indispensable source of what I'd call "fringe music."  And Christgau, nearing 80 now, is still plugging away with a new version of his Consumer Guide, which he is now publishing using a subscription model.

What does any of this have to do with Soccer Mommy?  Think of it as a roadmap - in order to discover an artist like Soccer Mommy (real name: Sophie Allison), you've got to put in the work.  And in this case, it was well worth the effort.  The album "Clean" took a few listens to sink in for me, but "Your Dog" made an impression right away.  It's the kind of song where you catch a fragment of a lyric on first listen, and then you're almost afraid to find out what it's all about.  As this piece on NPR notes, "It's a song reclaiming agency and identity taken by another person's condescension, control and abuse."  That tells you what you need to know.

Think of it as the link between Liz Phair and Taylor Swift.  

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #49 - "Your Dog," Soccer Mommy.

The Top 50 Songs of the Decade

First of all, before anyone decides to give me a hard time with the "the decade of the 2010s didn't start until 2011" argument, I'm using the definition of "decade" which  simply states, "a period of ten years."

It took a little longer than expected to winnow the list down to 50 (there were some really painful cuts involved; I'm very sorry, Cardi B), but it's ready to go, so this little series will carry the blog through the end of the year.  Counting down, Casey Kasem style, my Top 50 Songs of the Decade.  If you don't see and hear something you enjoy, then you need to work on your musical tastes.

We begin the countdown with a living legend:



My parents and aunts took me to see Willie Nelson for my 21st birthday, which for those keeping track, was 38 years ago.  He was a grizzled veteran then, so I'm not even sure what to call him now.  But he's still writing great songs, still singing great songs, and by all appearances, still smoking only the best weed.

"Me and You," Willie Nelson (2018).   The old man clearly has an astute observation or two left up his sleeve.

More on The Highwomen

One sign of a great album is that you keep changing your mind about which song is the best.

Right now, "My Only Child" fits that bill for me on "The Highwomen."  And shame on me for not even mentioning it in my previous post.

Co-written by Natalie Hemby, Amanda Shires, and Miranda Lambert, it's the only song on the album that features a lead vocal by Hemby.

It's a magnificent song.  And the more I listen to and think about the album, the more it becomes a contender for my favorite album of 2019.

The Highwomen: Setting a Crowded Table

We are the highwomen, we sing stories still untold
We carry the sons you can only hold
We are the daughters of the silent generations
You sent our hearts to die alone in foreign nations
It may return to us as tiny drops of rain
But we will still remain

The Highwomen are one of the year's best music stories.  From left to right on the album cover, the group is comprised of Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires.  If not exactly household words, all four have been very successful artists in their own right - Hemby primarily as a songwriter, the other three as singers and songwriters.  Carlile, Shires and Morris have all recorded excellent albums in the past year.  But over time, this album may come to be viewed as their legacy.

I want a house with a crowded table
And a place by the fire for everyone
Let us take on the world while we're young and able
And bring us back together when the day is done

It's not news that the country radio establishment has been shutting out the best women artists for a long time.  You could call "The Highwomen" a concept album in response to that unfortunate situation, but it's less a direct response than an alternative.  As Shires put it recently in an interview, the four came together with the desire to be inclusive.  When you listen to songs like "Crowded Table" (lyrics above) and "Redesigning Women," that theme is readily apparent.  Again proving the point, guests like Sheryl Crow and Yola show up on a couple of the album's tracks, and the video for "Redesigning Women" (see below) features a number of their fellow artists, including Tanya Tucker and Wynonna Judd.



But as strong as the concept is, having a strong concept wouldn't mean anything unless it was accompanied by a strong set of songs.  On that score, the album is a complete success.  Each artist brings their own style to the table, but the best songs are those that meld their strengths, and even more importantly, their voices.  In addition to the songs above, highlights include "Highwomen," which revisits (with his blessing)  the Jimmy Webb tune that provided The Highwaymen (Cash, Nelson, Jennings and Kristofferson) with their moniker; "Old Soul," which just might be the best song that Maren Morris has recorded to date; and "Wheels of Laredo," the album closer.  But every song is good, and there's plenty of humor (much of it self-deprecating) to go around.

Without a doubt, one of the notable albums of the year.

#SaveSI

Deep down, my guess is that the effort to save Sports Illustrated is doomed to fail.  On the one hand, it's not that difficult to understand - the magazine has been a shadow of its former self for a while now, which has been the case for many formerly great weekly periodicals.  It's now a biweekly publication, and the days are long past when the stories have the same kind of immediacy they did back in the pre-Internet era. 

But on the other hand, the thinking that goes into this kind of decision on the part of TheMaven makes no sense to me.  My son has now worked for two companies in the past year that were acquired by a larger company, with the only apparent purpose seeming to be to run the business into the ground and then sell the spare parts for profit.  Someone must be making a lot of money from these types of business strategies, but there doesn't seem to be much point to the exercise, aside from that.

If we are near the end of Sports Illustrated, that is something worth mourning.  For more than 60 years, the magazine was a source of incredible writing, and incredible photography.  There are a dozen or so boxes sitting out in my garage, and inside of them are old copies of Sports Illustrated, going all the way back to 1969.  Sports Illustrated has been an important part - a formative part - of my life.  Its legacy will live on through the former writers who go on to work in other venues, but even if that happens (and it has already happened in some instances), it just won't be the same.

Farewell, Bruce Bochy

Confession time - when Bruce Bochy was manager of the San Diego Padres, I couldn't stand the man.  My ire was directed more at the narrative that was constructed around him at the time.  He was a "genius!" And when you watched a baseball game during that era - and in this instance, I'm thinking more of the national telecasts than the local broadcasts with Kruk & Kuip, or Jon Miller - you could not go more than an inning or two without some commentary about whatever managerial move Bochy was making, and how that particular move manifested some type of rare genius.

It was annoying, and it got bad enough that when the Padres faced the best Yankees team in decades during the 1998 World Series, I actually rooted for the Yankees - which went against every fiber of my sports fan being, which has always been attracted to the underdog, unless one of the combatants is my team (or a team that I can't stand).  And when a managerial blunder (defined by Bill James as an out of the ordinary move that doesn't work) cost the Padres a game...well, let's just say I didn't feel too bad about it.

So when the Giants announced in October 2006 that they were bringing Bochy on board to succeed Felipe Alou, you didn't see me jumping for joy.  And after two seasons of more than 90 losses, it seemed just a matter of time before the Giants would be looking for Bochy's successor.  But things turned in a positive direction the following year, thanks in large part to the skinny kid in the above photo, a pitcher who looked like his arm might fall off every time he took the mound.  He's not going to make the Hall of Fame, but for a 3-4 year period, he was as good a pitcher as anyone has ever seen.  There's a bobblehead of him in my office, and he's holding his two Cy Young Awards.  Not too shabby.

And then the following year, a World Series Championship that seemed as if it would never come - at least not during my lifetime.  That was the year of torture, as the Giants found new ways to make things more dramatic than they needed to be.  Throughout it all, Bochy was the rock around which everyone would gather.  It was a glorious time.  And when it happened again in 2012 - the "never say die" year - and 2014, the year we were probably the 7th or 8th best team in baseball, we were well into territory that would have seemed corny even for a Hollywood movie.

The last few seasons haven't been that great, but so what?  How many baseball fans can say that they got to see their team bring home the trophy three times in five years?  And no matter important one believes a manager to be to a team's success, you can't argue with what Bruce Bochy has been able to accomplish.  You could call it luck, I suppose - but the way that he squeezed the best out of his players, including many that people had given up on, you have to give him credit.  He was able to do what few before him were able to do.  And he didn't need to be a genius - he just needed to be Bruce Bochy.

At the end of the day, Bochy's bust will be in Cooperstown, and that honor will be well deserved.

Apropos of Nothing: The Reboot

When this blog began a little over 13 years ago, it was called "Apropos of Nothing."  Within a month of opening up shop, I realized there was another blog with that name, so it became "Stuff Running 'Round My Head," after the Bruce Springsteen song of that name ("I got stuff running 'round my head/That I just can't live down").  Truth be told, I was afraid that having a blog name that someone else was already using might drive down traffic to my own site.  I'm not sure how many people I expected to read my stuff, but it became pretty clear, fairly quickly, that it was not going to be a huge number and that I was not going to be plucked from the relative obscurity of working for (at the time) a statewide education association.  At this point I know longer care about either of those things.

In the early years, I was a posting fool.  There were pieces about music, movies, sports, politics (which died down over time, particularly when I went back into the lobbying business), and any other thing that inspired, perplexed, or annoyed me.  Over the years, the number of posts dropped precipitously, to the point where they've almost become non-existent.  Most of my quick thoughts can now be found on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.  That seems to be the case for a lot of other folks, since the number of blogs I read on a regular basis has dwindled down to a handful.  Through pieces I've written, I've made connections with some really cool and talented people, and that's always been the point, right?

Nearly all of my writing these days is related to my work.  But my guess is that most people aren't that interested in the bang-up job I did on letters to Governor Newsom requesting a signature on AB 48 or a veto of AB 218 and SB 328.  Or on the amazing issue-oriented memorandums I prepare on a regular basis.  Now, you may not be interested in what shows up here, either - but this is going to be an outlet for my own sanity, if nothing else.  It's a self-commitment to take a break every now and then and write about something, as noted above, that moves me in one particular direction or another.

Having done so too many times, I'm leery of over-committing, but let's just say that there absolutely will be at least one new piece posted here each week.  Tomorrow, look for the first one.

One of These Days, I'll Learn: Billie Eilish

When she first hit the airwaves, I was mystified - I just didn't get it.  And then she was everywhere, including the cover of Rolling Stone.

That's OK, I thought - hell, at 59 years old, old enough to be her grandfather; this music wasn't meant for me.  You can't like everything, right?

And then this, from last night's season premiere of Saturday Night Live.  I was pretty tired and struggling to stay awake, but made it through the entire show.  It's fair to say this (and her other performance) is the only thing that stuck in my memory.   This is the kind of song that has a direct line into my psyche.  It's difficult to explain why; it's a much about the sound as it is what the singer is singing about.  But now it's probably just a matter of time before I pick up the entire album.

The Albums of 2018 - For Posterity

• She Remembers Everything - Rosanne Cash
• Interstate Gospel - Pistol Annies
• Live From The Ryman - Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
• The Eclipse Sessions - John Hiatt
• Bottle It In - Kurt Vile
• Look Now - Elvis Costello & The Imposters
• 13 Rivers - Richard Thompson
• Desperate Man - Eric Church
• Out of the Blues - Boz Scaggs
• In the Blue Light - Paul Simon
• Egypt Station - Paul McCartney
• Everything is Love - The Carters
• Shooter - Shooter Jennings
• To the Sunset - Amanda Shires
• Plays Well With Others - Lera Lynn
• Nearer My God - Foxing
• God's Favorite Customer - Father John Misty
• Kids See Ghosts - Kanye West & Kid Cudi
• Daytona - Pusha T
• Ye - Kanye West
• Isolation - Kali Uchis
• May Your Kindness Remain - Courtney Marie Andrews
• Bad Witch - Nine Inch Nails
• Things Change - American Aquarium
• Years - Sarah Shook & The Disarmers
• Tell Me How You Really Feel - Courtney Barnett
• Things Have Changed - Bettye Lavette
• Clean - Soccer Mommy
• Dirty Computer - Janelle Monae
• Free Yourself Up - Lake Street Dive
• Good Thing - Leon Bridges
• Girl Going Nowhere - Ashley McBryde
• Golden Hour - Kacey Musgraves
• Restoration - Various Artists
• Sparrow - Ashley Monroe
• There's a Riot Going On - Yo La Tengo
• Boarding House Reach - Jack White
• By the Way, I Forgive You - Brandi Carlile
• All American Made - Margo Price

Your 2019 Masters Champion

There was a time when I wrote so many posts about Tiger Woods that he had his own "tag."  You can find it on the sidebar, and if you click it you'll see that it's been a little more than 9 years since the last post.  It might as well be a lifetime.

Around the time of this blog's debut, Tiger was on one of those streaks when it seemed as if he would never lose again.  It was late summer, 2006.  He had just won four consecutive tournaments, including the Open at Hoylake and the PGA Championship at Medinah.  Any debate over his passing Jack Nicklaus as the golfer with the most major championships was centered on when, not if, that would happen.  Literally anything seemed possible.  Little did we know, the clock was ticking and his time at the top was almost up.

He won the PGA again in 2007, and at the U.S. Open in June 2008 he turned in one of the most amazing performances in the history of the sport.  Armed with a decade of hindsight, it seems obvious that he should have sat that one out.  Watching at the time, we could see the pain he was in, as he hobbled up and down the fairways of Torrey Pines and did the sorts of things that he always had done - make impossible shots look easy, and make the easy shots better and more often than anyone else.  It was a great triumph.  At my office on the day of his 18-hole playoff with Rocco Mediate, several of us spent the afternoon running back and forth down the hall, towards the one office that had a television.  That day, one of our group speculated that Tiger would end up with 22 majors before his career was over.  Again, little did we know.

Much of what transpired after that triumph was ugly, or sad, or a combination of the two.  It wasn't the first time in the history of sports that we discovered a chasm between an athlete's public persona and their personal lives, but it was certainly one of the most painful.  After Tiger returned to golf, every now and then we'd see flashes of the old brilliance.  For a time, he continued to win tournaments.  He contended in an handful of majors, but never came close to capturing #15.  People stopped talking about his chances to pass Nicklaus, and many people shut down the debate in their own minds about which all-time great was better.  And Tiger's body continued to deteriorate, to the point where he reportedly told friends and fellow golfers that he wondered if he'd ever play again.

Following spinal fusion surgery, he mounted another comeback.  And this time, he began to play well enough that one began to wonder: just how far might he come back?  When he won the Tour Championship last September, it was a wonderful moment.  It would have been enough - he had proven that once again, he could triumph over the best golfers in the world, in an atmosphere that was close to what he'd confront in a major tournament. 

Heading into this year's major season, I really thought he had a chance to win one.  I didn't think it would be at Augusta.  More likely Pebble Beach at the U.S. Open, or even more likely at Bethpage Black, which will be hosting the PGA Championship next month.  He's won majors at both venues, and it just seemed to be asking too much to think that he could triumph at Augusta and don the green jacket for the fifth time.  There's a lot of really great players right now, and unlike the days when Tiger began his era of dominance, nearly all of them are as physically fit as he was in his prime.

It was a busy week at work, so I didn't get to see much more than a few highlights of the first two rounds.  But what I saw, and what my friends and fellow golf fans were telling me, was that from tee to green, he was dominant - clearly better than the field.  His kryptonite seemed to be putts in the 6-12 foot range, and if he could start dropping some of those, who knew what might be possible. 

When the final round began early on Sunday, a lot earlier than normal due to the threat of heavy weather later in the day, I was as nervous as I'd ever been watching a golf tournament.  And as it began to play out on the back nine, it seemed almost like a miracle.  Tiger wasn't quite as dominant as Nicklaus' 30 on the back nine in 1986, but at the same time it felt similar, as the drama and pressure of the moment began to claim one major champion after another - Molinari and Koepka at 12, and then Molinari again at 15 - while Tiger himself did everything he needed to do.

And most notably, while playing smart golf - conservative when the occasion demanded, not trying to take more than the golf course was prepared to give him.  And when he flirted with a hole-in-one on 16, and then made the birdie, it was just a matter of time.  He was going to be the 2019 Masters Champion.  And when it happened, it was glorious moment.  And not just because of the accomplishment, but because of the way he reacted to it.  We've never seen Tiger that happy following a victory, with the possible exception of his first Masters championship more than two decades ago.  Then, he embraced his father.  Now, he embraced his son, then his daughter, and then his mother.  The smile did not go away.  And he seemed to realize just how lucky a man he is. 

Back in his days of dominance, he attacked the game of golf as if it were his enemy.  There were few things in sports as unpleasant as watching Tiger Woods on a day when his game was off.  I hope I'm not wrong about this, but I don't think we'll be seeing that Tiger Woods again.  He's got nothing left to prove at this point.  During the weekend, someone - it may have been Jim Nantz - noted Tiger had said, "I don't need to win any more majors.  But I want to."  With this one under his belt, it's only natural that we begin to speculate about more - after all, he's already won majors at both Bethpage and Pebble - but everything that comes after this is just icing on the cake.  This was the big one.  This was the weekend where he made his case for being the greatest golfer of all time.  And it was a pretty damn good case.

Tiger Woods.  Your 2019 Masters Champion.

Songs of 2018, 8th Runner Up: Pusha T

It takes about 45 seconds to hit high gear, but once the hook kicks in, you can't let it go.  Probably the best song to come out of the various Kanye-produced projects that were released last Summer.

"If You Know, You Know," Pusha T.

Songs of 2018, 9th Runner Up

After his second album, which was almost certainly too much of a not-always-good thing, I'd begun to grow tired of Father John Misty.  But he won me back with "God's Favorite Customer," his 2018 album that was shorter, funnier, and better than the album which preceded it.

"Mr. Tillman" first caught my ear with the line about Jason Isbell, and overall the best way to describe it is as a classic Father John Misty song.  Make what you will of the video, but one can't accuse him of not having a sense of humor.

Albums of 2018, Honorable Mention: "Produced by Dave Cobb"

"Number one is the voice.  That's what people respond to the most, the singer is everything."

- Dave Cobb

Dave Cobb is a busy man.  If you look at his recording credits, it's common to see his name credited on as many as six albums per year, whether as producer, recorder, mixer, or instrumentalist (or some combination of the above).  For artists associated with Nashville, he's become close to omnipresent, working with Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson, Jamey Johnson, Chris Stapleton, Kris Kristofferson, John Prine, and even the Oak Ridge Boys, among others.

2018 was no different.  There were other albums in addition to those pictured above, but for the purposes of my "Best of 2018" series, I'll focus on these four.  And while they share a link to common styles of music, the production approach on each is geared toward the singer's voice.

On "By the Way, I Forgive You," Brandi Carlile's  singing sounds as if her voice might break at any given moment, almost as if she's manipulating an internal tremolo lever.  The instrumentation never gets in the way, and of course it helps that this may be the best collective group of songs that Carlile has ever written for an album.  The album's peak is achieved early on, with the magnificent opener "Every Time I Hear That Song" - one of the year's best songs.  That none of the succeeding songs quite match up is just a testament to the greatness of the opener; "The Mother," "Fulton County Jane Doe," "The Joke," and "Party of One" all come close.  Side note: on this one, Cobb co-produced with his friend and colleague Shooter Jennings.

Speaking of Shooter Jennings, let's move over to "Shooter," which takes a fairly straightforward approach to Jennings' not-quite-but-close-to gravelly voice.  Jennings can sound soulful, he can handle ballads with aplomb, and he can come across as a whiskey-fueled rocker when the occasion demands.  The album's highlight is the lovely "Rhinestone Eyes," as good a love song as was released in 2018, but don't discount "Bound Ta Git Down," a perfect companion piece to Skynyrd's "I Know a Little," "Shades & Hues," or "I'm Wild & My Woman is Crazy."

Amanda Shires has an extraordinary voice, one that seemingly was created to provide perfect harmony vocals.  But the voice is so light, that on her previous album "My Piece of Land," it sometimes seemed to get lost in the songs, as if it were a leaf blowing away in the wind.  On "To the Sunset," Cobb has constructed a musical approach - almost hard pop-like on some songs - that allows Shires' voice to drive the songs, which is something I wouldn't have thought possible before now.  And the songs are uniformly strong, with "Swimmer," "Leave it Alone," and "Break Out the Champagne" standing out.

I'm not sure how to describe Ashley Monroe's voice except to say that it's a classic country voice - more powerful than Shires' or Carlile's, but also capable of achieving vulnerability in the upper register.  On "Sparrow," Cobb's demonstrates his versatility by working with Monroe to construct a sound that is nothing like what you hear on the other three albums.  Driven by strings, bass and organ on some songs as much as guitar or drums, it sounds a bit like a fusion of countrypolitan with some of the sounds you might have heard on a Jerry Wexler or Willie Mitchell produced record in the late 1960s and early 1970s.  The approach works particularly well on the title track, "Hard on a Heart," "Wild Love," and "This Heaven," but there really isn't a weak cut on the record.

Dave Cobb is at the point of his career where he can work as much or as little as he wants.  No doubt, there will be an album or two released in 2019 that ends up on next year's list of the year's best.  Because the best artists clearly want to work with him.