There are a few albums in my possession that I've bought more than once.  I've purchased Michael Penn's March and Free For All, Lemonheads' It's a Shame About Ray and Come On Feel the Lemonheads, the Pretty in Pink soundtrack, and the Rave-Ups Chance albums at least three times each because I've played them to death or loaned them to friends who loved and kept the albums for their own.  

Two weeks ago I realized I didn't have Chance on any of my computers and went looking for my cd, but it wasn't to be found.  I was quite disenchanted with iTunes after striking out there, but when I checked out Amazon and discovered Chance is out of print, that fact made me sad.  And so I turned to Ebay, bought a gently used cd for $7.99 and wondered what is wrong with the music industry.  The Rave-Ups were a great band with critical acclaim and a cult following, appeared in the film Pretty in Pink, but never had the kind of success they deserved (or at least that's what this fan thinks).  After 12 years together and four albums, they broke up in 1992.  Wikipedia says they're back together, but there is no source cited and I'll believe the Rave-Ups are back together when I see it.  As of right now, some freakin' Yardbirds tribute band is using their name and has a website with that name, so who knows?  I was surprised to see very little on the interwebs about the Rave-Ups.  The Wikipedia entry is weak and I only found one review of Chance.  Pathetic.  And so, it's up to your favorite red-haired blogger to tell you about one of my favorite albums.  

1990's Chance is the last album released by the Rave-Ups, who are now classified as Roots Rock.  Back in the day, they were plain old Alternative.  Whatev.  One day I'll have to write a post on this classification-thing because I looked up what they call "Roots Rock" and I'm sorry, but you can't put CCR, Neil Young, the Rave-Ups, and The Wallflowers in the same genre.  Whatever you call them, they were just good.  The group was headed up by Jimmer Podrasky, who wrote some rockin' songs with great lyrics and good hooks, just good stuff.  And I need a friend named Jim so I can call him Jimmer.  I've decided Jimmer is the best name ever.

The first track on the album, "The Best I Can't" shows more of their rock side and the name of the song tells you what kind of songwriter Podrasky is — he takes phrases and mixes them up, he puts his spin on something familiar and makes it his own.  Here's "The Best I Can't."

01 The Best I Can't 1

And now for something completely different.  I think "Hamlet Meets John Doe" shows off what the Rave-Ups did best: a lovely little song with good lyrics, a little bit of a country sound, nice melody, and well — just well done.  It's my favorite song on the album.  I love the lines "I've got nothing to say and 12 ways to say it/Break my heart, but please don't trade it"

05 Hamlet Meets John Doe 1

The last song for you to listen to today is "She Says (Come Around)," just because it's a good one.  Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to see the Rave-ups live (since I was in high school when they broke up and they were a Pittsburgh-based band), but I just know they had to have rocked this song in concert.  It's just that kind of song.  The intro is great and Podrasky's quirky thing he does in the line "don't ya miss nobody" makes me smile every time I hear the song.  I can't see anyone not liking this song.  It's fun.  Music is just supposed to be fun sometimes.  A lot of bands forget that along the way and that's when I stop listening.  I never stopped listening to my Rave-Ups. 

07 She Says (Come Around) 1

So, that's a few songs off of Chance.  By the way, the album was named after Podrasky's son, Chance (who's mother just happens to be Molly Ringwald's sister — I know, small world) and that's baby Chance on the cover.  How cute is that?  Supercute.  As a special treat, and because I'm a liner-note junkie, here is the letter that serves as the liner notes for Chance. 

(tray liner notes from
A Chance Conversation with

Jimmer Podrasky of The Rave-Ups
promo CD, EPIC ESK 2010)

january 1, 1990

dear chance,

by the time you're old enough to
read and understand this letter and this story, the rave-ups (a/k/a:
jimmer podrasky-the singer, terry wilson-the guitar player, tim
jimenez-the drummer, and tommy blatnik-the bass player) and the album
we named for you will probably be long forgotten. things can come and
go quickly in the world and every day seems to bring something new with
it. that's probably why your mom and I named you chance.

first I should tell you of how
the rave-ups came to be. the "early" stuff was well before your time,
so to ease what might be a painfully boring history lesson, I'll write
quickly:

i grew up in pittsburgh–went to
college–didn't know what to do–graduated—still didn't know what to
do—found a guitar—already wrote—thought "what the hell"—the
rave-ups–played bars–painted houses–move to l.a. and played bars
with different people–met your mom–got a record deal and a record–class tramp, 1984–played bars–met some guys at work at a&m records–new band/same name–town & country, 1985–played bars–made a movie–played in a bar in a movie–these wishes, 1986–critics kinda liked us–played bars–got a bigger record deal–the book of your regrets, 1988–didn't sell too well–played more bars…

…which brings me to about the
time you came around. i had just returned from the "tour of your
regrets" when you were born. i stayed at home with you most of that
year, learning diapers instead of guitar licks. i couldn't help think
how ironic your name was to me–it could very well have been change.
but chance seemed the perfect name in an always-spinning world.

it was june 1989, and you were
just about to have your first birthday. the rave-ups were recording a
new record in hollywood. we were a funny band. four completely
different personalities. we worked together. we laughed. we fought. we
were the closest of friends and the bitterest of enemies. musically, we
ripped off anything and everything that we could and ended up sounding
a little bit like a lot of things; but mostly, we sounded like
ourselves. some liked it, some didn't. it wasn't new or particularly
inventive. it was us. no less valid than dylan and no more valid than
debbie gibson.

the songs on the chance album
were written at traumatic times for me and for the band. mostly they
were written at terry's house, in a room about the size of a jail cell.
appropriately, the claustrophobic surroundings seemed to echo the
tensions of the time. there were lots of changes in all our lives. i
was a new dad. terry had just married. tim's father had divorced and
was living with him. tommy had gotten his hair cut.

in the studio, the band seemed
more relaxed. we had fun taking a few musical risks and playing
instruments other than the usual guitar-bass-drums lineup. terry
brought in some new instruments and sounds to the sessions. cobra
flutes mixed with pedal steel guitars. sitars with harmonicas. sampled
laughs with acoustic guitars. we all took a shot at playing everything.
we felt completely comfortable–just the four of us and david leonard,
the producer we had worked with before. in the end, i think that the
band took some chances on the record. it was a healthy step and a
fitting one for the album's title.

more than anything else, you
were in my thoughts while writing and recording the record. naturally,
it was inevitable that we would name it after you.

and that's how chance, the album, came to be. listen to it as much as possible. listen to your dad.

love,

jimmer
(a/k/a dad)

I think that's just fantastic.  Hope y'all enjoyed today's tunes and thanks for letting me share a band that I love with you, just don't ask to borrow the cd. 

I love the Van Morrison.  I have since I was a kid, when I discovered my parents’ albums (that are now in my possession) which were a treasure trove of musical goodness of Aretha, Otis Redding, and Morrison.   His Band and the Street Choir was my favorite then and I still love it.  Back then it was all about the voice and the sax, but now I appreciate the subtlety of some of the songs, the lyrics, the genius of a singer/songwriter who makes you feel.  And he hails from Ireland.  A soul singer from Ireland.  Sweet.

Here’s a blurb from Morrison’s Wikipedia:

Van Morrison (George Ivan Morrison, OBE, born 31 August 1945 in Belfast, Northern Ireland) is a critically acclaimed^[1][2] singer and songwriter with a reputation for being at once stubborn,^[3][4] idiosyncratic,^[5] and sublime.^[6] His live performances at their best are seen as transcendental and inspired;^[7][8] while some of his recordings, such as the studio albums Astral Weeks and Moondance, and the live album It’s Too Late to Stop Now, are acclaimed as among the greatest ever made.

Known as “Van the Man” by his fans, Morrison started his
professional career when, as a young teenager in the late 1950s, he
played a variety of instruments, including the guitar, harmonica,
keyboards, and saxophone, in a range of Irish showbands who covered the popular hits of the day, before rising to prominence in the mid-1960s as the lead singer of the gritty Northern Irish R&B band Them with whom he recorded the garage band classic, “Gloria“. His solo career began under the pop-hit oriented guidance of Bert Berns with the release of the hit single “Brown Eyed Girl” in 1967. After Berns’ death, Warner Bros. Records bought out his contract and allowed him several sessions to record Astral Weeks in 1968.^[9] Even though this album would gradually garner high praise, it was initially poorly received; however, the next one, Moondance, established Morrison as a major artist,^[10]
and throughout the 1970s he built on his reputation with a series of
critically acclaimed albums and live performances. Morrison continues
to record and tour, producing albums and live performances that sell
well and are generally warmly received; sometimes collaborating with
other artists, such as Georgie Fame and The Chieftains. In 2008 he performed Astral Weeks live for the first time since 1968.

You’ve heard “Brown Eyed Girl” and “Gloria” at least a hundred times, so I thought I’d give you some of my favorites.  

“If I Ever Needed Someone” is a beautiful song that I’ve always liked.  It’s a prayer, it’s desperate, it’s honest, and it’s just a magnificent song.  

If I Ever Needed Someone (LP Version) – Van Morrison

Next is “Gypsy Queen.” It’s the only song that I know of that mentions a carburetor.

Gypsy Queen ( LP Version) – Van Morrison

“Into the Mystic” is a definite favorite. It should be required listening for everyone, especially those growing up with the Disneyfication of music these days. The title is perfect and sounds like a book I’d like to read, if it were a book.

Into The Mystic – VAN MORRISON

Next is an odd one. “Crazy Face” has lyrics that sound like something you would dream.

All the people were waiting for Crazy Face
He said he’d meet them at his favourite place
Dressed in black satin, white linen and lace
With his head held high and a smile on his face
And he said:
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the prince is late’
As he stood outside the church-yard gate
And polished up on his .38
And said:
‘I got it from Jesse James’

See? I told you. It reminds me a lot of Counting Crows lyrics. You know I love that.

Crazy Face (LP Version) – Van Morrison

Finally, because I know it’s bound to be a sad fact that many of you have never heard the man sing the original, here’s “Wild Night.”

Wild Night – Van Morrison

It's July and you know what that means.  That's right, it's birthday month.  Everyone knows I celebrate my birthday all month, but today it's about birthday boy Ringo Starr.

You know Ringo as The Beatles' drummer, who Paul McCartney has said is the most consistent drummer he's ever worked with and I think he's pretty underrated as a musician.  Ringo's played with some greats in music.  His Wikipedia entry on who he's played, toured, and recorded with reads like a Who's Who of rock and roll of the past 50 years with names like Carl Perkins, Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne, Joe Walsh, Jim Keltner, Jerry Lee Lewis, Dr. John, Dave Stewart, Sheila E, Howard Jones, Paul Carrack — you get the picture, the list is ridiculous and I haven't even mentioned the solo albums he drummed on for the other three  Beatles. 

One of my favorite Beatles songs featuring Ringo's drumming is "The End."  For some reason I don't have a good mp3 of it (not sure where my Abbey Road cd is, but I'll be looking for it later).  "The End" was the last song recorded by all four Beatles and all four have solos in the song (very nifty), even though Ringo didn't like solos.  Here's a You Tube video with the song as it's heard on the Abbey Road as a 5 minute superfantasic medley of "Golden Slumbers," "Carry That Weight," and "The End." 

My favorite Ringo song has always been "Photograph," here's a 2008 clip.

Lastly, I found a great video from Ringo of a radio interview and a performance of his autobiographical song "Liverpool 8,"  I think you'll like it.  Happy birthday, Ringo!