I very rarely develop crushes on the subjects of songs. There is, of course, the girl from "Underwhelmed" by Sloan. Every guy knows her. Every guy has a crush on her. Every guy never does anything about it.

But then there's "Suzanne", that purveyor of earthy sadness who may feed me tea and oranges all the way from China. I remember waking up in the country one Sunday- there was a snowstorm, and CBC was doing a piece on the actual "Suzanne" on the TV. She's homeless in California. She never had sex with Leonard Cohen. She shows me where to look among the garbage and the flowers.

People like this don't seem to exist in everyday conversation. Not around these parts, anyway. I think the closest I ever met was an Australian in India... but she just went back home to work at the bank.

Anyway, everyone knows the original. Here are a few versions from artists I love, or at the very least, find interesting. I think my favourite one is The Fairport Convention. Because a) I am a mark for British psych-folk and b) love the way it slowly burns, unlike the original which is hypnotic, but hence, sleepy.

Fairport Convention - Suzanne

Peter Gabriel - Suzanne

Francoise Hardy - Suzanne

Nick Cave - Suzanne

-kam

Grant-Lee Phillips - I Often Dream of Trains (Robyn Hitchcock cover)

The Wedding Present - Back for Good (Take That cover)

Every year, at the first snowfall, I seem to pine for the previous year's first snowfall. It doesn't help that this year... I was already mired in last year. Which is odd, because things are remarkably different in a positive way... almost strangely so.

Listen to the songs... am I trying to depress myself? I just know that no matter how happy I ever get, I will always a) dream of trains (& Grant-Lee Phillips singing in front of my corner store) and b) want you back for good.

Two cover songs here, and this is not unintentional. Every passing year seems to cover the last, whether it be a simple acoustic rewrite, or a video with Marilyn Manson in a hot tub.

-kam

I'm going to keep this one simple since I'm currently suffering from the disease that is 'time'. And while Saturday is purported to be the climax of a typically soul-crushing week, it's becoming my least favourite day.

But I'll try my best to appreciate it, as I once did maybe eighteen years ago when Saturday meant staying in pyjamas watching "Superstars of Wrestling" followed by "American Gladiators", where welders and waitresses dodged Nerf balls thrown by the same guy you just saw Junkyard Dog beat up an hour before. He 'grabbed them cakes' to the point I got dressed and rode my bike down to the park to point at fish mutating in the radioactive creek while kids fell off the creative playground and broke limbs in the background.

My brothers, meanwhile, rode banana-seat bikes and played Dungeons & Dragons in the garage, until Calvin, the kid with the learning disability, got a d20 in the eye.

For the longest time, I thought the "dinner bell" rung from the front porch was a part of my imagination, but no, it actually happened. Home then, for beefaroni, and to play Commodore, while my mom watched "Golden Girls" as the North Stars found Borje Salming's unique brand of Swedish defence impenetrable on the CBC.

Chicago - Saturday In The Park

This song, perhaps, is what it may have been like had it all gone well for the characters in "Requiem For A Dream".

And somehow this song is timeless even though I know full well it isn't. I can just keep it here, in my ranks of databanks and play it when I feel like bathing in certain aromas of nostalgia. I don't like having that sort of control- I much prefer nostalgia as a surprise- but perhaps I'm still bitter, because everytime I go to a retro-diner, I feed the table-top jukebox quarters, yet it's woefully out of order.

Buy Chicago - V maybe? Bah, I don't know, I just wanted to make a post.

-kam

the gandharvas...

Seems pompous, perhaps a bit like something Jeff Martin should have done, to name your band after the minstrels that make music for Hindu gods. But the gandharvas never sent me incense in the mail, no, they always seemed more cheerful than that. The perfect soundtrack for riding your bike around the church parking lot Sunday afternoons when the Buick LeSabres finally drove away, scraped out Jello moulds and irreverent weekly gossip in tow.

But I was a little too old for that in the 1990s. The gandharvas may as well have been the house band on 102.1 the Edge's "Live In Toronto", the self-important yet sorely missed dinner hour rundown of all things alternative in the city of Toronto, hosted by the perpetually unphased Kim Hughes. (She talked me through my tenth grade math homework.) It seemed the gandharvas had found that meal-ticket of 90s Canadian alt-rock in regular rotation, that should have scored them beer promotions and roadside attractions. But it was never meant to be. And I don't know why. But I'm glad.

While my peers praised "The Hip", I insisted on Paul Jago who may have sounded like Perry Farrell with more phlegm, but less like a Transformer. He was best remembered for wearing a t-shirt that said "Girlie Boy" in the video for "Downtime". While Our Lady Peace, I Mother Earth and the like are all fetishized as being something a bit better than they were for the sake of nostalgia (and perhaps a little Can-Con), the gandharvas seem to have faded out, reappearing every so often on request hours, or within Holly McNarland's stage banter.

It seems I was on to something special that came and went like a summer romance, leaving question marks behind in lieu of latching on to a jilted American singer's new project. We shared a few public displays of affection, but for the most part remained comfortable, embedded in private moments with the stars and the waves and a couple bags of cotton candy from the carnival in the distance. Yes, the gandharvas are a part of my own personal "Wonder Years". But they yet remain timeless. Something that the radio, or the townie reunions can't make me get sick of.

the gandharvas - The Masochistic Minstrel

From the forgotten sophomore album from a mostly forgotten band... those with sharp, patient memories will remember the claymation video. I don't, really, but I'm confident it was no more lame than anything Tool ever put on screen.

But yes. Timeless. A welcome song to remember on these nights when it feels time is being told by melting clocks.

The album "Kicking In The Water" seems to be out of stock everywhere except for the mothy corners of my closet. Keep an eye out for gandharvas albums here.

-kam

This entire entry could also apply to the band Pure. But... naaaah. Not the same. Not as good.

Is it too late for me to "get into" Rob Crow?

Crow’s one of those guys who has about 40 bands plus 30 side projects, and unless you’ve been following him seriously for at least five years, it’s guaranteed that you’ll get lost along the way. I’ve delved into Heavy Vegetable quite a bit and a little bit into Pinback, but am still ignorant of the ways of Thingy, Physics, Optigonally Yours, The Ladies, Holy Smokes and yes, even the mighty Goblin Cock (with that name, they must be described as “mighty”).

See, when I heard this song…

Heavy Vegetable - Abducted By The Work Aliens

…I was sold on Heavy Vegetable.

When I heard this song…

Pinback - Tripoli

…I was sold on Pinback.

Basically, I need someone out there to suggest a single song by any of the other Crow projects that you think will “sell” me on it. So tell me what you think the best Goblin Cock song is, and I’ll see if I can be sold on Goblin Cock. Did I mention one of the side projects is called “Goblin Cock”?

This is less a typical post and more a plea for help, so I urge any of you out there to help me in my quest for the mighty Gobl…oh, forget it…saying it for a fifth time would be redundant.

Buy Fast Tempos And Odd Time Signatures (Heavy Vegetable) Here!

And Pinback, the band that everyone describes as “emo”. I don’t see an emo connection at all. I mean, come on….is every band who plays slighty sad, slow songs “emo”? Where do we draw the line? I’m going to try not to say that word for two months. "Emo", I mean. Not “Goblin Cock”. Anyway, Buy Pinback Here!

-kevin