Monday, December 16, 2002

Dial-A-Song

I made the most important purchase of my life (or the last three days, at least) yesterday. That is, the two-CD set of They Might Be Giant's greatest music, titled Dial-A-Song. Songs on the first half of the first disc of the collection:

Birdhouse in Your Soul

I first heard this when I was in eighth grade. It struck me as a strange combination of bizarre lyric and poppy tune. It still strikes me that way, although I have a wider context of pop music in which to place it. It was a top-10 hit in the U.K., and it encapsulates many of the band's most appealing points.

Ana Ng

An earlier song by the group. I particularly like the double-time, clipped guitar riff during a section of the chorus.

Don't Let's Start

The group's breakthrough single, from its first album. Surprisingly straightforward, although the lyrics go in many directions.

Boss of Me

From Malcolm in the Middle, of course. I'd never heard the full-length version of this before. Full of horns, yelling choruses, and enough hooks to keep the Captain in stock for the rest of his life. The two Johns won a Grammy for this, and deservedly so. Like "Birdhouse," it shows the group at their most identifiable and personable -- although with much more guitar roar.

Older

A somber yet goofy rumination on aging. Or something.

Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

See my earlier blog entry for more info.

Doctor Worm

A real discovery. The horns are again prominent on this swinging track, which previously only appeared on the group's Severe Tire Damage live album. Apparently, the narrator of the song is, in fact, a worm. Who also plays the drums. And wants to be called a doctor. All of that doesn't matter, though, when the song hooks you like this one does.

New York City

No jokes here, really. The group didn't write this song, which extols the virtues of the city of its title. An all-girl punk/thrash ensemble came up with it, and John Flansburgh decided to make this power-pop version.

Particle Man

Perhaps too well-known. One of those songs that has permeated the culture at its edges, without much awareness of its creators. It's easy to see from this song why the group eventually made a children's album (No, just this year). On their compilation album Then: The Earlier Years, there's a recording of schoolchildren singing the tune. It works well.

Cyclops Rock

A tune from the group's most recent album, Mink Car. A loud, dissonant rock song that I find profoundly unpleasant. I also find myself humming its sneering tune quite a bit.

Minimum Wage

A near-instrumental that lasts less than a minute. Yet it's also gloriously woozy. Mmmm.