The Staying-In Swami

One of the Going-Out Gurus put a song on his April mix tape that I recently put on a mix tape, too. An intersection! One that I will share with you, gratis, until someone sues the pants off me or absorbs all my awesome bandwidth. Hell, I'll put up the whole playlist. Note that almost none of these acts will be appearing in your area any time soon.

Peter, Björn, and John, "Young Folks". Confirming yet again that pop improves with latitude. Don't know whether I'm going to plink down the $20 to see the Swedes' show at the 930 Club at the end of the month—but this song alone is worth the price of the PB&J album.

The Vaselines, "Slushy". My roommates live on the bleeding edge, and not often do they get behind the vintage-bin stuff I play. But I've caught every one of them humming something or another by The Vaselines, which owes either to their catchy hooks or the fact that I won't put them away.

Stereo Total, "I Love You, Ono". Carnival music? French–German Tropicália? I don't, in fact, love Ono.

Os Mutantes, "A Minha Menina". Bona fide Tropicália. I don't want to hear about how you saw them at Pitchfork. This song appears on most any mix I make from April through September: so sunny. And Wreck sings along to this one.

The Fall, "Totally Wired". Can you believe they just released a new album? Their 26th? Jesus Christ. It's got a Merle Haggard cover on it—that sounds pretty sweet. Once, when I was a wee lad, I asked an older and wiser record store clerk I sort-of knew what really great Fall album I should check out, and his response was something like, "First one [idiot]." Thank you, Letters to a Young Rock Fan.

Love, "Alone Again". Where's the love? Here's the love. (Getting bored with this format.)

Dusty Springfield, "Some of Your Lovin'". A beautiful, confident, experienced, bittersweet song. It's absolute gold.

Harry Nilsson, "Everybody's Talkin'". Not only will Wreck sing along to this one, but on the part where Nilsson launches into his stratospheric falsetto, Wreck matches pitch, duration, tone, the whole shebang. Wreck won't let you leave his love behind.

Ris Paul Ric, "Valerie Teardrop". Picking up the pace a little, I turn to local-boy-done-good Chris Richards. This song I think of as his solo single, in part because someone else put it on a mix tape for me once, also because I remembered it well after seeing it performed live just once.

Beach House, "Saltwater". My current Baltimore sweetheart act. (I understand there's a big war between the District and Baltimore scenes? Sorry, I'm totally rooting for Baltimore. Charm City, let me know if you need any intel from the inside.)

Visitors, "I Know". These guys are friends of mine from Austin. Recently, after I'd been out playing some records with some friends, I wrote these guys a retarded, drunk message on MySpace. If that's not grounds to have my Internet taken away, I don't know what is. I'm fond of the walking-tempo, minor-key arpeggios on the organ.

The Usaisamonster, "No More Forever". I had to buy, like, three different EPs by these guys to find the copy of this song that I wanted. On some recordings, the treble falls off entirely during that blazing guitar riff. Accept no substitutes.

Marnie Stern, "Grapefruit". How great is this album? Pretty A-OK, says everyone. The combination of maximum-riffage noodling with stop-and-start metrics and layered, fussy vocals is a profitable formula. I think she could mine three albums' worth of material without tweaking her concept too much, and damnit, I want to listen to all those albums. Spencer listened to this song for the first time and observed something about the frisson of perfect pop clarity that arrives with the heavy chords. That's about right: Despite all the things he and I are saying about it, it's really accessible music.

Sentai, "Everything Change Everything". More District favorites.

Stephen Malkmus, "Jo Jo's Jacket". Every once in a while a song from Brighten the Corners will electrocute my brain. I've never been all that into Pavement; I don't feel like my behavior lumps me with the at-risk community for this affliction. This song from Malkmus's solo stuff greatly enhances the threat of guilty-pleasure aneurysm.

TV on the Radio, "Mr. Grieves". An a capella Pixies cover comprising twenty-eight (!) vocal tracks, every last one recorded to creep you right the fuck out. In Tunde Adebimpe's phrasing, a lyric like "What's that floating in the water?" takes on the sinister inflection of ghost story. He's the stuttering librarian who says that things have always been amiss in this town, the shuffling carnival hand who wouldn't ride the ferris wheel under the full moon out if he were you.

Susannah Hoffs, "I'll Keep It With Mine". I'm collecting versions of this song—Dylan, Nico, Fairport Convention, Rainer Maria. This one by Hoffs (ex-Bangles) is my favorite.