The thing about the Internets is that you can’t always find what you want right away. Sometimes wayward visitors make their way to PCR, and I want to make sure they feel welcome.

So inspired by an earlier post by my man Tony, I dug through my stats log (as if I don’t pore over my stats daily) (actually, I don’t) and found a bunch of wayard searches for information that this site doesn’t necessarily provide. Today, I rectify that:

//rapping weed without wrapping paper

I recently and randomly ran into Quazar, who does the music for Weeds, but there’s no rapping as far as I know. By the same token, there’s no wrapping paper on the show either, so we’re halfway there.

For what it’s worth, I am a big fan of Martin Donovan, think Mary-Louise Parker is ace and find Kevin Nealon’s stoned yuppie schtick pretty hilarious, so have enjoyed that show, but also find it kind of uneven and think it’s done a little that thing like Fonzie with the water skis.

Sorry I can’t be more help on this front.

//i wish i was a punk rocker to read on paper

Well, you can find some instructions on how to be a punk rocker here. It’s easier than I thought… Anyway, just print ‘em out and yr home free.

Yr welcome.

//characters names in the outsiders on cover

Hmm. I’m not sure what yr getting at here, but w/r/t the Coppola film, I’m told Johnny dies in the end.

Sorry I can’t be more help on this front.

//scary clips of goats

Yr welcome.

//cialis

Really? Is it so difficult to find C1A! L15! on the Web that somehow you thought this would be the place to look? People send me like a hundred e-mails a day trying to sell me the stuff.

Bottom line: yr just not trying hard enough.

//jakarta after dark bars for sex

Actually, I kind of take back the thing about all my wayward visitors being welcome.

//anna nicole smith new york magazine

I’m really not familar with what yr talking about here. Nope. Doesn’t ring a bell.

Sorry I can’t be more help on this front.

Varnaline “Only One”

Yeah, so I lied last week about not playing hooky, thus making the Baby Jesus cry. Sorry, Baby Jesus.

This was gonna be a post with a couple Prince covers, but consider that TK as I try to make up for missing the opportunity for a Valentine’s entry. But then, for those in love, why pick out only one day a year to celebrate it? I guess it’s just the powerful candy, flowers and heart-shaped-things lobby in action, as well as the delicious opportunity to make the heartbroken feel that much shittier. I remember those days.

Anyway, I want to share with y’all one of my favorite love songs, by an artist who’s been slept on to ridiculous proportions–Varnaline.

Over the course of four full-lengths and an EP from 1996 to 2001, Anders Parker laid down some tuneful, somber music that was reminiscent of Neil Young while maintaining an individual songwriting voice, spanning styles from country rock to a sort of post-grunge power pop with some interestingly atmospheric stops along the way.

But it felt like nobody talked about him. He released a solid record under his own name last year, again, to little attention (although hopefully I’ll get to highlighting a tune or two from there another day).

As for “Only One,” off the acoustic A Shot and a Beer EP (1997), it’s an aching ballad about love that endures. I’ve confessed my infatuation with songs about new love in bloom, but this tune kills me by going in the exact opposite direction–a man struck with wonder over the luck he’s found years along, in a lived-in relationship.

Parker employs simple elements, acoustic strums accented with a spidery arpeggio, a little mandolin in the right places, while the words imply a history, life in its mundanity and high drama. The vocal performance is subtle and supremely sympathetic. You can hear him searching around the cavernous sound of his own voice for the twang, the warble and the gravel called for in each moment. And it doesn’t hurt that, formally, the song has a tight structure where the verses smartly play off each other.

It’s not sugarcoated or starry-eyed. There’s a number of explicit acknowledgements of the tough times and mistakes. But it still comes around to the same point: “when I think of you/you’re the only one.”

A Shot and a Beer is out of print, but findable on Amazon.

… just posting late. For now, I’ll be the billionth blogger to present, again, the majesty of His Royal Purple Badness in Miami Sunday past. More on this, later?

Jaz & Jay-Z “It’s That Simple”

Leaning on Edan’s Fast Rap mix again to pull a sort of curiosity from the era of high-top fades and Africa medallions. On his 1990 sophomore record, To Your Soul, Jaz throws a cameo to his sidekick, Jay-Z.

Seventeen years later, it’s Jigga’s appearance on this track that adds interest. Jaz, the now estranged mentor, was strictly an also-ran in the hip hop game, even at the time–at least to my memory of things, no reflection on his skills, just his lack of profile. We all gotta start somewhere, but God MC in the weed-carrier role feels like Jimi Hendrix watershedding on the chitlin circuit, not to put too much weight on sort of an outdated cliché.

Holding aside that elephant in the room, there’s a lot here that exemplifies why old farts like me get a nostalgic glow off jams from this era (70s baby syndrome?).

For one thing, there’s an amiable party vibe to this track. In fact, it sounds like party noise is piped in below the nice organ and funky, if somewhat standard issue, breakbeat. (Even before I noticed the Prince Paul shout-out, I was pretty sure he was the producer of this track. He and Marley Marl sorta stand astride this time like James Brown-sampling titans.)

Intertwined with the bounce vibe is the lack of menace. The two J’s rip it and rip it clean, no violence, no dread n-words. It’s not soft stuff, and it’s also not rubbing grime in yr face. It’d take a fool to call the turn of the 90s a more innocent time, but songs like this support at least an illusion somewhere in that neighborhood.

Of course, back then the West Coast cats were already boasting of their rock-slangin’ bonafides on record. The precedent had been set, and gangsta would migrate Eastward soon enough. But on “It’s That Simple” Jigga dosn’t invoke his hustling history/persona. Odds are it would’ve drawn disapproval, and maybe more importantly the subject matter would’ve thrown the song off-balance.

Jaz and Jay-Z are making good-times music by and for folks who’ve been through the worst times. It feels relatively lightweight maybe, but it’s a noble enough tradition.

And what of Young Hova’s performance back when he was actually, like, young? He obviously still had more to learn about the potential of wordplay, the depth and variety he could pour into his flow without actually having to rap fast, and the range of emotion he could wring from his voice.

But he had that spark, that confidence that’s always been the core of his appeal. No mean feat when you get one or two verses on someone else’s record to state yr case.

Fast Rap at UndergroundHipHop.com.