Neil Diamond “Sweet Caroline” (Live)
Mark Holder “Sweet Caroline”
Wham! “Careless Whisper”
Ben Folds & Rufus Wainwright “Careless Whisper” (Live)

Last weekend I managed to rock the karaoke mic two nights running. At a Friday night party, friends had set up their computer as a karaoke system, and I got to warm up for an already planned, full-on Saturday night session at a box karaoke joint in the basement of a Koreatown mall. It was a total blast.

So, wishing y’all yr own Weekend of the Golden Throat, I’ve posted what I believe to be the godhead of karaoke songs, “Sweet Caroline”–a version by Diamond and a neat reggae-inflected cover I grabbed recently from Soul Sides.

Super Diamond, Uncle Phranc’s drag king act, Saving Silverman–you can find plenty of modern-era pop cult tokens of Neil Diamond’s overwhelming campiness. Unfortunately that sort of obscures the guy’s well-earned rep as an amazing songwriter.

There’s a core singalongability (ha!) to Diamond’s songs that make them perfect karaoke fodder. You really can’t go wrong with a Neil selection–”I’m A Believer,” “Cracklin’ Rose,” “Red, Red Wine,” even “Forever In Blue Jeans” (which makes an excellent follow-up to “Suspicious Minds,” for what it’s worth; their hooks have similar melodies and cadences).

But “Sweet Caroline” is the granddaddy of all karaoke tunes.

When folks have just gotten in and are feeling a little shy, when the room needs warming up, this is yr starter. After someone’s assayed some dour ballad listlessly (enthusiasm +/- alcohol being the true fuel of any box karaoke sesh), this will get people back into the flow.

The song feels like it was tactically designed for karaoke dynamics: sun-dappled, croony verse through slightly overdramatic prechorus into a chorus that’s pure gold. While the “hands/touching hands” section is a little harder to sing than anyone anticipates when the tune’s cued up, that’s just another part of the fun.

Those without the mic, don’t forget to chime in with a “ba-da-ba” when the refrain kicks in. It’s essential.

In the karaoke game, it’s important to work up a “card,” yr top tune to rock every sesh. I’m still honing my take on “I Just Wanna Luv U” (from now on I need to arrange for someone to play Pharrell to my Hov), so “Careless Whisper” remains my card. I’ve posted it here in its original version and a live cover by pianomen Ben Folds and Rufus Wainwright that I believe I picked up from Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands.

The first tricky thing about “Careless Whisper” as a karaoke choice is that there’s a really long instrumental section after the first verse. I’ll note that this is probably my favorite 80s sax part in a pop song, not to damn with faint praise.

Anyway: Be prepared to dance! For me, this also a good time to concentrate, to get a little bit Method about the whole thing and imagine myself as a young, clean-shaven George Michael, wracked with loneliness and regret because he’s just, um, danced with someone else behind his lover’s back.

When you get to the “tonight the music seems so loud” part, the key is to pull out all stops, no matter how embarrassing–Folds and Wainwright understand this, clearly. And after all, there should be no embarrassment within the box. No matter how deep you get into it, be ready to pull yrself back from the brink to smooth it on the falsetto “now who’s gonna dance with me,” but with the reserves of energy to belt “please stay!” right before another chorus.

Must admit I fell off rhythm during the bridge this past Saturday and sorta botched the whole thing. But I’ll be back to that club in the mall basement. I realized while preparing this post that in some sort of weird cosmic coincidence–OK, it doesn’t take much to impress me–I bought Make It Big in that same mall about five or so years ago.

Neil Diamond: The Greatest Hits at Newbury Comics.
Neil Diamond Gold at iTunes.
Wham!’s Make It Big at Target. (What’s up, iTunes?)

Ruins “Reversible Sabbath”

It’s Tuesday, and it’s time to rock.

Honestly, I’d be a totally faking it to pretend I’m a Ruins aficionado. The avant/prog stuff generally intimidates me–if you’ve been paying attention, you can tell I’m much more of a pop fan in my dotage. When I do take it in, I process it as genre music, and really at that point I’d rather throw on some dub or bossa nova or something.

On the other hand it’d be pretty damn ignorant to dismiss the long-running Japanese outfit–a bass and drum duo, with drummer Tatsuya Yoshida serving as the bandleader and only constant member since Ruins’ 1987 debut.

So this is me dipping my toe into much deeper waters, via a track from last year’s Black Sabbath covers comp on Temporary Residence, Everything Comes and Goes. The disc, it’s worth noting, doesn’t actually promise covers, but rather “interpretations and mutations,” which might mean it’s not really for Sabbath fans.

And even on a project that features minimal ambient Sabbath, postrock Sabbath, country-folk Sabbath, spazz rock Sabbath, jazz rock Sabbath, etc., Ruins felt compelled to offer a (tongue-in-cheek?) Engrish almost-apology in the liner notes, “(we hope Sabbath fan will not angry with this song).”

I will claim to be a Sabbath fan, although my fandom to date hasn’t escaped the borders of the original Ozzy years.

I will not angry with this song.

“Reversible Sabbath” is really the disc’s standout–deploying limber yet heavy drumming and bass distortion set to stun for a 2:34 instrumental medley of Sabbath’s greatest riffs. Each riff is repeated long enough to sink in, maybe long enough for a trainspotting/game show moment, “uh, uh, Sweet Leaf, no, uh… OK,” and then it’s on to the next.

When a song engages you on that level, don’t call it a gimmick please, you stand up and notice. It’s rocking and smile-inducing, and also a wonderful tribute, in the truest sense, to the depth of Tony Iommi’s rock riff compositional genius.

My patented five minutes of Google research per post tells me that the riff medley is a trick that Ruins has rocked before, on 2000’s Pallaschtom and 2002’s Tzomborgha. (n.b., “Black Sabbath Medley Reversible” off the latter is not the same as the Everything Comes and Goes track.)

Prog with a sense of humor and brevity–this might be the prog for me.

Everything Comes and Goes at Newbury Comics.

Lemonheads “Skulls”

So here’s the fun Halloween-themed post that I aimed for and thoroughly botched this morning. Evan Dando, king of the alt-rock covers, gives the solo acoustic treatment to a Misfits classic, off 1991 EP Favorite Spanish Dishes.

Take your pick from the irony bin: the natural tension of gruesome lyrics about a serial killer sung prettily; or “hack the heads off little girls/and put ‘em on my wall” after this morning’s debacle.

The Lemonheads were never my pick of the hometown homestate scene, but Dando acquits himself well here. Then again, “Skulls” is a killer pop tune, so it’d be tough to fuck it up.

Now, the NKOTB cover off the same EP–there’s some horror for you.

[Favorite Spanish Dishes is out of print.]

The Mountain Goats “You’re So Vain”
Cat Power “Satisfaction”

John Darnielle. Chan Marshall. Both indie singer-songwriter types. Both single individuals who record under a band name. Both have band names with animals in them. Both recorded gender-flipped covers of hits from a bygone era. Both skipped singing the choruses on said covers.

Coincidence? I think n–well, OK, it was probably a coincidence.

Gender-switching on covers is subversive by nature, even if the extent of that subversion’s sorta been dulled at this late date by repetition.

At any rate, “You’re So Vain,” a Carly Simon tune recorded by the Mountain Goats for the ultimately unreleased but recently leaked 2000 effort Hail and Farewell, Gothenburg, is an unmistakable kiss-off. But it betrays a distinctly “feminine” vulnerability, at least according to the constructs of the time. The object of scorn is masterful, self-possessed, jet-setting, using and disposing at will… basically the kind of shit dudes got away with from time immemorial, but that would mark a chica with scandal, etc.

I take it that part of the point here, other than the joy of playing a great song, is the way a lover can become a star in your eyes, no matter who you are, and the sting of betrayal sometimes blowing things up beyond their reasonable bounds.

So the flip-side of the coin, Cat Power’s narcoticized take on the Stones’ classic, from her appropriately titled Covers Record of 2000, shoots for ultra-minimal, excising all but the entitlement and bravado that was the cornerstone of Mick’s persona. (He was, after all, a lover of Carly’s, did sang backup on the original “You’re So Vain” and was a suspect for being the song’s subject, although she’s said it ain’t him.)

Slowed-down, and with “can’t you see/I’m on a losing streak” given extra weight, “Satisfaction” becomes both an exposé of the hollowness behind that pose of “masculine” cool and an expression of the human need and yearning it seeks to hide.

Interrogating a motive behind Marshall’s chorusectomy seems a little easier–it went out the window with the song’s titanic riff, part of cooling down the tune’s macho. “You’re So Vain” without the chorus removes the sort of brainfucking irony (or illogic) that was, at least to me as a child, part of the song’s hook. “You’re so vain/you probably think this song is about you,” OK, right, but if it is then… but… if he thinks… uh, OK.

Or maybe they’re both a way of saying, “Y’all know this part.”

Sweden (another 2000 MG record) at ArtistDirect.
CP’s Covers Record at Target.

Modern Lovers “Dignified And Old”
Sloan “Dignified And Old”

I’m writing this entry from the 15 North fast lane and hoping to actually post it from Vegas. It’s been a pretty busy last couple days, thus the late post. I thought I’d just rattle off a little something about road music.

We’re relying on the little lady’s nano, a Chrismukkah gift from her bro that I helped load up with tunes.

One of the gifts yielded up from this road trip approach was hearing, within an hour, both the original version of “Dignified And Old” by the Modern Lovers and the Sloan cover.

I wish I could remember the exact quote, but there’s something that explains an anomaly like Jonathan Richman. Something about how punks in cities built on a grid, like NYC and L.A., tend to have a very simple us vs. them worldview, while cities with more arcane and circular layouts, like Boston and D.C., breed punkers who can do the rebel thing and be home for dinner with grandma.

Not saying I buy it 100%. I mean, all generalizations are bad, in general. But there’s something attractive about it.

So Jonathan Richman, the frontman for 70s prepunk geek rockers the Modern Lovers, could idolize Lou Reed but channel the art rockismo into his own lovelorn, wonderfully naïve teenage view of the world. He doesn’t buy the rockunroll credo to live fast, die young, etc.—one day he’ll be dignified and old. Pretty damn classic.

The cover by Sloan, Canada’s foremost purveyors of brainy classic pop, is stripped down and faithful. Sorta makes you miss the cool organ line from the Lovers version. It’s taken from their fake live EP, which was packaged, I think, with the 1998 original American pressing of 1996 minor classic One Chord to Another. (Don’t ask.)

Grab a brew and dig it. We’ll see you on the other side of the state line.

[Both the Modern Lovers’ debut album and the 2-CD One Chord to Another are out of print.]