The new crop of pop stars could learn a lot from Frank Sinatra. No, they probably won’t match his voice or his depth of feeling. No, they probably will still rely on the celebrity dating and nipple-slips to draw attention when their respective albums fail to. As far as the qualitative end of things, I can’t name one single modern artist who could replace Lanky Frank (this means you, Michael Buble and Josh Groban.) What Sinatra does have in common with Pop ‘09 is that he was an interpreter of other people’s music and songs. Even his classic conceptual Capitol albums, including Only the Lonely and Where Are You?, were the work of other minds yet when he set his voice to them, the songs became his. When you think of “High Hopes” it’s his voice singing them. The same holds true for “All of Me” and even if “Love and Marriage” makes you picture Kelly Bundy, you’ll never mistake who was singing it.
While Capitol’s latest collection lacks the sheer magnitude of its predecessor, it is still a serviceable primer full of songs you know very well. It even has a previously unreleased track, “This Can’t Be Love” but that isn’t really a huge selling point for this set. That it’s 21 tracks for the price of a single disc constitutes a hell of a deal, especially considering how skimpy many of Ol’ Blue Eyes’ other compilations have been, is part of the allure. The true fan probably has the albums these cuts came from, and if they don’t at least have Only the Lonely they ought to be ashamed of themselves, but this really isn’t for them. (more…)


I’d like to pay tribute to my mother-in-law, Judie, a woman whose perseverance has set an example not only for all of her kids, but for all of us to follow. In the summer of ’92, before I began dating Julie, I knew her mother as a customer at the Bin, the natural foods store where I worked. Back then she was just Mrs. Flynn, and once a week she stopped in to buy fresh fruit and vegetables, bringing a ray of positive energy into the store. I first took notice of her kindness when my dad went in for open heart surgery. Judie expressed great empathy, even though she hardly knew me. Her kind words and prayers gave me some peace of mind during a turbulent time.
I was ready — so ready — and fired up to tear into the new AC/DC album like a grizzly bear on chubby hikers. These old guys have been cranking out the same album all career long, including a jump from deceased lead singer Bon Scott to longtime and current singer Brian Johnson. The AC/DC pattern is simply a thudding stomp of a beat, a concise riff, often dumb lyrics based on substances, debauchery, lust and mayhem and a voice that could never work in any other setting. Add in the predictability of material, a chunk of years off, another one of these cheesy Wal-Mart distribution deals and the AC/DC logo becoming a fashion statement as bland as the Nike Swoop and there should have been no reason for me to be kind to Black Ice.