Lover of Life, Singer of Songs

Hollywood Records just sent me their new Freddie Mercury "solo" retrospective, a double-disc treatment culling the best stuff from his Queenless songbook. Here's a quickie review plus a QUESTION FOR YOU:

Where does Freddie fall on a list of BEST FRONTMEN EVER?

Freddie Mercury

Album: Lover of Life, Singer of Songs: The Very Best of Freddie Mercury Solo (Hollywood)

Why we care: Queen's late, great rock god (who would have been 60 this year) didn't have a prolific career sans his regular mates, but his solo work was as powerful as it was compact. A Parsi hunk born Farrokh Bulsara, Mercury is celebrated here with a double-disc beauty including cuts culled from his solo albums plus 15 remixes.

Why we like it: Mercury's eighth-wonder voice is all parts operatic and hammy, gut-wrenching and nuclear. The man tackled his music with bear-hug gusto, especially on such muscular dramas as There Must Be More to Life Than This. Unlike Queen's reliance on Brian May's guitar laser beams and related gonzo effects, Freddie's solo work is much simpler, built via piano and synth and that open, vulnerable voice — oh, that voice.

Reminds us of: Queen with less leather, more lace

Download these: There Must Be More to Life Than This, Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow

"A Charlie Brown Christmas"

My 3-year-old daughter and I watched A Charlie Brown Christmas last night (then stuck around for the lame "new" Peanuts special, in which Charlie Brown sounded like a chain-smoking drag queen). Halfway thru the original, I realized my kid has the exact same profile as Lucy Van Pelt. It's cute now, but could 'cause real problems later in life.

Anyway, one of the joys of watching with Kid Lulu was her reaction to Vince Guaraldi's music -- she bopped her head the whole time. I was pretty excited for her. Last week, I wrote about the remastered, repackaged Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack just released by Fantasy. My review is rather earnest, but nevertheless, Guaraldi's masterwork is essential buying.

Vince Guaraldi, A Charlie Brown Christmas (Fantasy) An absolute must-have, this deluxe edition of Guaraldi's 1965 cool-jazz masterpiece has been remixed, remastered and reinforced with four bonus tracks. It remains an essential catalyst for any TV-raised tyke (or tyke at heart living in balmy FLA) trying to get into the spirit of the season. Guaraldi's puckish piano noodlings have never sounded so crisp and clean, especially the iconic Linus and Lucy and that propulsive hepcat-rhythm breakdown. Christmas Time Is Here (both a vocal and an instrumental track are included) manages to capture the sound and purity of gently falling snow without being sappy. Now let's all do the Snoopy dance. Grade: A

What's In Sean's Mailbox: Dolby for the Masses

Thomas Dolby looks like he emerged fully formed from Terry Gilliam's brain, doesn't he? You gotta have a helluva skull to go bald, but he looks sharp. I'm currently geeking out to TD's live version of Hyperactive. Dolby sounds good, lotta fun, towering towers of synth. The crowd at a Chicago club is going nuts. The show is coming to a close. Hmm, I wonder what he'll encore with?

Not a big release week, so the mailbox is filled with pretty eclectic stuff...

Thomas Dolby -- The Sole Inhabitant
Rock Star Supernova -- Rock Star Supernova
Olivia Newton-John -- Grace and Gratitude
Robbers on High Street -- The Fatalist and Friends
Moe. -- The Conch
Sizzla -- The Over Standing
Brand New -- The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me
Kronos Quartet -- The Fountain (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
Ali Lohan -- Lohan Holiday

Jay-Z's Tragic "Kingdom"

Here's an excerpt from my Jay-Z/Kingdom Come review, the entirety of which will grace your Tuesday edition of the St. Petersburg Times. For the most part, this one's bumming me out. Blame it on high hopes. Blame it on a track record with few potholes. Whatever the case, the album's a letdown...

When you hype your new album as the biggest career comeback since Lazarus and Mariah Carey combined, you better back up your boasts with big beats and even bigger hooks. But alas, as Jay-Z shows on the surprisingly ho-hum Kingdom Come, the recently unretired rapper is much better at goodbyes than hellos.

In 2003, Jay-Z was the greatest rapper in the world, a multiplatinum-selling star with charisma and talent to spare — so he quit. Hip-hop was a young man’s game, reasoned the then-33-year-old artist, the rare talent whose cred was as solid on the streets as it was in Middle America. His adieu disc was the thrice-platinum Black Album, a hit-stuffed farewell featuring the Rick Rubin-produced 99 Problems, a pounding marriage of thunderous beats and lightning-quick social commentary.

Despite please-don’t-go protestations from his fans, the Brooklyn native shelved his mike and pulled on a suit, becoming the CEO and president of Def Jam Recordings. Although he hinted at a Michael Jordanesque comeback at the end of The Black Album, the corporate Jay-Z said he was done rapping. Never mind his guest spots on dozens of tracks, including some by gal pal Beyonce. To paraphrase the man himself, Jay was now a businessman, not “a business, man.”

But the game, it seems, wasn’t quite done with him.

“As you can see, I can’t leave,” the 36-year-old says at the start of Kingdom Come, powerless to fight his fate. So here we find Jay-Z, player and coach, executive and artist, a former drug dealer turned self-made mogul working all sides of his comeback. Even more juicy: a 36-year-old star, an old coot by hip-hop standards, going to battle against young rappers on both coasts.

If only the results were as exciting as the buildup.

For his return, Jay-Z commissioned all manner of uber-producers (Kanye West, Dr. Dre, the Neptunes) and star performers (Usher, John Legend and, naturally, Beyonce). The samples are just as bold-faced; if you swipe a chunk of Rick James’ Super Freak, you better bring your A game, lest you get chumped by MC “U Can’t Touch This” Hammer.

But for a hip-hop icon addicted to big and brash inventiveness, Kingdom Come is often just kind of . . . blah. I never thought I’d say that about Jay-Z, but it’s true. On Oh My God, produced by Just Blaze, our hero is challenged to rhyme over a rickety go-go beat, with keyboards squealing and backing singers cooing the titular hosanna. “I’m feeling like the world’s against me, Lord,” he spouts in his limber fashion, “but call me crazy, but strangely I love the odds.” For any other rapper, the song would be a statement; for Jay-Z, however, the underdog notion rings false. The odds aren’t against you when you’re betting the house’s money.....

While Sean Gently Weeps: The Beatles' "LOVE"

Imagine Salvador Dali as the fifth Beatle, or maybe Timothy Leary as the Fab’s fave pharmacist, and you’ll get the kaleidoscopic vibe of LOVE, the trippy soundtrack to a Cirque du Soleil show currently playing Vegas.

The acoustic flutters of Blackbird melt into Yesterday, Sun King runs backwards as Gnik Nus, I Want to Hold Your Hand is jazzed by the “live” roars of teen adulation. On LOVE, the Beatles songbook is no longer individual pieces; instead, it’s one cohesive collective of beloved beats, hooks and lyrics, chopped up and put back together again.

This tribute doesn’t just mess with your head, it messes with your DNA.

This “mashup” was helmed by legendary Beatles producer George Martin and his son Giles. Almost every second of the 26-track disc was created (re-created?) using the band’s original tapes. So although it might be twisted, it’s also completely organic. Robust approval of the project was reportedly given by Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, and John Lennon and George Harrison’s widows Yoko Ono and Olivia Harrison.

(By the way, you have to believe that Martin & Martin got their idea from Gnarls Barkley’s DJ Danger Mouse, who infamously “mashed” together Jay-Z’s Black Album with the Beatles White Album — and started a revolution with 2004’s The Grey Album. An acknowledgment of such in the liner notes would have been nice.)

Cynics will scoff that LOVE is merely another way to repackage and reap millions from the Fab Four. But although I haven’t seen Cirque’s music-meets-acrobatics performance, I’ve listened to LOVE repeatedly (obsessively?). The soundtrack is delirious fun, with iconic song bites jumping albums, years, visions — and landing in strange, satisfying places.

Is the “new music” better than the original material? Of course not. Not even close. But Beatlemaniacs and related purists should appreciate the Martins’ warm touch and reverent approach. As both sonic experiment and warm tribute, LOVE soars.

Plus there’s a great deal of parlor fun in name-checking the source material of each puzzle. For instance, Get Back features the opening guitar thwang! of A Hard Day’s Night, the drum solo from The End, and the crescendoing strings of A Day in the Life. An echo of Hello Goodbye plays under Glass Onion. Mr. Kite mingles in Helter Skelter. And so on.

Sometimes the producers are content to play within the confines of a single song. The string section of Eleanor Rigby is now sky-high in the mix, which makes all those lonely people sound even lonelier. And as the album’s most heartbreaking moment, Harrison’s While My Guitar Gently Weeps is now completely unplugged and features the only newly recorded music on LOVE: a devastatingly sad string section. If the Quiet Beatle was always your man, you’d be wise to keep the Kleenex handy.

Wanna Sound Cool? Say "TV on the Radio"

Whenever I'm stuck next to Some Yahoo at a party, the two of us jostling for the clam dip, Some Yahoo always asks, "So, buddy, what's good in music these days?" Some Yahoo doesn't really care about my answer, mind you. But I always answer Some Yahoo, 'cause I'm an only child, and I crave attention and approval, even from those people I despise, such as Some Yahoo. Anyway, I'll see Some Yahoo over the next two months, so here's my "good music" answer. Some Yahoo will forget the band's name as soon as I say it -- you, on the other hand, should not.

TV on the Radio

Album: Return to Cookie Mountain (Interscope)

Why we care: A few weeks ago, these Brooklyn art-rockers turned the Letterman show into a coming-out party, hammering the incendiary Wolf Like Me, a punk-meets-R&B assault that might be the most unforgettable piece of new music you hear all year.

Why we like it: Band co-founder Tunde Adebimpe, a graduate of NYU’s film school, and guitarist-singer Kyp Malone throw in all manner of sonic oddness over the course of 11 tracks. When the idea scramble works, it’s extremely good, especially on A Method, a modern doo-wop tune with a sudden militaristic twist.

Reminds us of: A little Gnarls Barkley, a little Pixies, a little Prince — brainy, shape-shifting soundscapes that are groovy and funky and brainier than the fat-headed kid scribbling behind you in algebra class.

Download these: Wolf Like Me, A Method

Grade: B+

Bootsy Collins: Christmas Is 4 Ever

If you like your Christmas music with extra stank on it (and who doesn't?), you'll freak for Bootsy Collins' new Christmas Is 4 Ever. Bootsy played the spacey bass for groove-loving heroes James Brown and P-Funk. The guy's a kinky nut, leaving his "WMD under the Christmas tree." (Don't worry, it's wrapped.) The perfect host, he even invites Snoop Dogg and beloved pimp Bishop Don Magic Juan to the bawdy bash. If you bring Bootsy to your next Christmas party (office, neighborhood, grandma's), you'll score serious style points and/or never be invited again. As Bootsy sings on Chestnutz, “Real life is not made of cheese.” Happy Holidaze, baby.

What's In Sean's Mailbox: Diddy + Daly = Magic

Say what you want about Diddy, but the man is cool with me. That's 'cause Sean Combs knows just what I like, sending me a double-album VINYL edition of his new Press Play. Sure, you haters might say that's like having a double-album vinyl edition of caca. But I like Puff's latest. Makes me want to strip off my chamois and groove, especially during Tell Me, his hot duet with Christina Aguilera. Diddy cared enough to send vinyl for the holidays. I appreciate that.

My mailbox has been absolutely STUFFED lately. Check out the goodies...

Oasis -- Stop the Clocks (Best Of...)
Snoop Dogg -- The Blue Carpet Treatment
The Game -- Doctor's Advocate
Robert Plant -- Nine Lives (9-Disc Solo Comp)
Tenacious D -- The Pick of Destiny
Disney -- The Music Behind the Magic (2-Disc Comp)
Staind -- The Singles 1996-2006
Chris Daughtry -- Daughtry
Yusuf (aka Cat Stevens) -- An Other Cup
Il Divo -- Siempre
Kenny G -- I'm in the Mood for Love

BUY THIS NOW: Kasabian's "Empire"

It kills me that I missed the Kasabian show in St. Pete last night -- I was knee-deep in Parrotheads and couldn't escape the escapism. As you're about to read (and marvel at my lustrous prose), the randy Brits are responsible for one of the great albums of '06. Go buy this sucker pronto...

KASABIAN, EMPIRE (RCA) A swaggering rogue's gallery of four lads from Leicester, Kasabian couldn't decide if they wanted to rock like Oasis or get trippy a la electro kings the Chemical Brothers. So on their sophomore album, the U.K. eccentrics do both, concocting an awesome, arresting rock album that sounds a lot like the Rolling Stones soundtracking a rave.

The grandeur is great, the beats are sexy and the riffs are just plain nasty. You can either air guitar to this stuff and/or do a creepy robot dance. If you wish to do both at the same time, please consult a physician. Lead singer Sergio Pizzorno had a songwriting hand in most of the 11 tracks, and subtlety just isn't in his dictionary. He and his mates strived to make the sonic equivalent of a head-rush from a first shot of booze.

From glammy opener Empire, which eventually breaks down into a bloody-knuckled punk anthem, to the funky wolf-prowl of Shoot the Runner, Kasabian's mix of guitar, synth and orchestral instruments begs to be played loud and late at night. Sun Rise Light Flies and Last Trip (In Flight) have burbly techno foundations, but listen to those high, soaring harmonies and you'll think more Magical Mystery Tour than A Night at the Roxbury.

A Twisted Christmas? Hell Yeah!

The Christmas CD barrage is officially underway. Most new entries are as appealing as a slushball to the groin, but some are keepers, including our first entry."Is that a Frosty pin on your uniform?!"

Twisted Sister, A Twisted Christmas (Razor & Tie) When these ’80s headbangers throw a holiday bash, they don’t just light the tree — they light it on fire. Led by Revlon-painted nightmare Dee Snider, the Twisted quintet turns yuletide tunes (White Christmas, Silver Bells) into guitar-shredded screamers. Oh Come All Ye Faithful is hilariously mashed into the band’s classic anthem We’re Not Gonna Take It. On the raucous I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, St. Nick has more than smooching on his mind. And you’ve got to love the shopping list on Heavy Metal Christmas (The Twelve Days of Christmas): a tattoo of Ozzy, two pairs of spandex pants, four quarts of Jack, etc. There’s a thin line between clever and stupid, but after a few spiked nogs, A Twisted Christmas puts a rockin’, ribald spin on the Santa season. GRADE: B

Best James Bond Songs?

The new Bond flick, Casino Royale, opens this Friday, with buff blonde thug Daniel Craig slipping on the 00 tux. Reviews have been good so far. Audioslave's Chris Cornell was supposed to write the new song, but I don't see it on the soundtrack. Anyway, this is a perfect time to remember the Top 10 Bond hits. Let's start with my own personal theme song, which I like to hum to myself while I shower...

10.) Nobody Does It Better -- Carly Simon (The Spy Who Loved Me)
9.) For Your Eyes Only -- Sheena Easton (For Your Eyes Only)
8.) We Have All the Time in the World -- Louis Armstrong (On Her Majesty's)
7.) Thunderball -- Tom Jones (Thunderball)
6.) Goldfinger -- Shirley Bassey (Goldfinger)
5.) The Living Daylights -- a-Ha (The Living Daylights)
4.) The World Is Not Enough -- Garbage (The World Is Not Enough)
3.) All Time High -- Rita Coolidge (Octopussy)
2.) A View to a Kill -- Duran Duran (A View to a Kill)
1.) Live and Let Die -- Wings (Live and Let Die)

Dancing With Himself: Beck

Beck

Album: The Information (Interscope)

Why we care: With the help of producer du jour Nigel Godrich (Radiohead, Travis), pop’s preferred loser-in-love makes one of his catchiest albums about isolation, alienation and the horrors of asking a girl on a date. Nice to know genius millionaires still get butterflies.

Why we like it: There’s a lot of funky in this shy, scrawny guy. Twelve years after debut disc Mellow Gold, Beck remains unrivaled at making music for people who dance by themselves. On mind-blowing song Nausea, he layers bird whistles, hard acoustic strums, a drum-circle rhythm, maniacal yelps and 100 other ingredients over and under a jumble of crazy-cool lyrics (“I’m a seasick sailor on a ship of noise!”).

Download these: Think I’m in Love, Strange Apparition, Nausea

GRADE: B

What's In Sean's Mailbox: Alexa's Eyes

Fairly full mailbox this morning, with the most intriguing artifact being a postcard promoting the debut EP by Alexa Ray Joel aka Billy's kid. When Alexa was born, God seemingly pulled a nasty prank, giving the wee miss all of the Piano Man's pop-eyed looks and none of her mother's, who just happened to be Christie Brinkley (aka the woman who adorned good chunks of my teenage wall). But as you can see, the now-20-year-old Alexa is a certified hottie, the best thing Billy Joel has produced since Glass Houses. I'll try and track down her CD and see if she has papa's pop chops. In the meantime, here's today's eclectic haul...

Robert Randolph & the Family Band -- Colorblind
The Deftones -- Saturday Night Wrist
...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead -- So Divided
Ronnie Day -- The Album
Grizzly Bear -- Yellow House
Rickie Lee Jones -- Sermon on Exposition Boulevard
Nanci Griffith -- Ruby's Torch
Bianca Ryan -- Bianca Ryan
Rockabye Baby! -- Lullaby Renditions of Led Zeppelin
Rockabye Baby! -- Lullaby Renditions of Nirvana

Trick Daddy

Check out that picture: The happy man in the middle is Cheap Trick's Robin Zander, surrounded by his rock-star-gorgeous family. (The killer shot, taken on St. Pete Beach 'round happy hour, is by my very favorite photographer, Bob Croslin.) Tonight at 9, Rockford's finest will play Ribfest at Vinoy Park in downtown St. Petersburg. You don't want to miss that. And you really don't want to miss today's profile on Zander, rock star by night, family man by day. Here's an excerpt...

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ST. PETE BEACH --  Robin-Sailor Zander, the 5-year-old daughter of one of rock's greatest frontmen, has major news to report. Twirling in the sand behind Harry's Beach Bar, the girl turns her face into the 5-o'clock sun and shows off a sizable gap in her grin.

"The Tooth Fairy brought me a whole dollar!" she giggles.

Behind her, sprawled on a hammock, is the Tooth Fairy himself. In lieu of wings and wand, he's dressed in a brown John Lennon shirt, baggy white pants and a hippie cap pulled over his trademark blond mane. He's also sporting a big, fat Cheshire Cat grin.

When you're both the Tooth Fairy and the lead singer of Cheap Trick, it's hard for life to get any better.

"Look at this place," says 53-year-old Robin Zander, whose iconic power-pop band headlines Ribfest tonight. "Look up at the sky. Look at the ocean."

Zander has lived in the Tampa Bay area for more than 15 years.

He loves it here.

Seriously: He loooves it.

"When I have time off, I go home," the rock star says in that instantly recognizable voice, the one that forever seared I Want You to Want Me and Surrender into your brainpan.

"For me, home is vacation."

(To read more, go here.)

What's In Sean's Mailbox: I Hate Sean Edition

Because I'm too busy answering furious, subscription-cancelling, ad-pulling emails from Billy Ray Cyrus fans (go here to see why), here's today's bounteous mail booty. (One woman said she'll never read the paper again until I'm fired. Yep, I'm really making friends here in FLA.)

Keith Urban -- Love, Pain & the whole crazy thing
Dixie Chicks -- Taking the Long Way (Deluxe Edition)
P.O.D. -- Greatest Hits
John Fogerty -- The Long Road Home: In Concert
Robin Gibb -- My Favourite Carols
Beyonce -- B'Day
John Legend -- Once Again
Hoobastank -- Every Man for Himself
Damien Rice -- 9
Prince, Pink & More -- Happy Feet Soundtrack
+44 -- When Your Heart Stops Beating

Mellow Out: Corinne Bailey Rae

Corinne Bailey Rae

Album: Corinne Bailey Rae (Capitol)

In stores: Now

Why we care: One of the hottest debuts of '06, this Brit rookie is a smoldering, Sunday-morning blend of Billie Holiday, Sade and Norah Jones.

Why we like it: The lithe, lovely chanteuse is being called this year's Joss Stone, but she sounds decidedly more authentic than that tall blond knockout. Rae doesn't just sing her songs; she curls up in their cozy, soul-kissed confines. And we totally dig that British accent sneaking into her lazy-river delivery. Very, very sexy.

Reminds us of: The perfect duet partner for John Legend, another hot young crooner who puts new spin on classic baby-making R&B.

Download these: Put Your Records On, Trouble Sleeping

Grade: B

Fed Up! Britney Files For Divorce

"Wow, I didn't see this coming," Sean snickered sarcastically as he began concocting a fiendish plan to seduce Britney and make her his wife.

According to the Associated Press, Britney Spears, 24, filed for divorce Tuesday from rapper-slacker Kevin Federline, 28. A Los Angeles County Superior Court filing cites "irreconcible differences." Spears married Federline in 2004.

Spears made a "surprise" appearance on David Letterman the night before, saying nothing about her soon-to-be-shattered nuptials -- and instead letting her little black dress do most of the talking. She was calm, cool, sexy -- and probably really pumped that she was about to cut that lame-o loose.

Oops! Faith Hill's Statement

Just got Faith Hill's "statement" regarding her "reaction" to Carrie Underwood's Female Vocalist of the Year victory at last night's Country Music Awards. If you haven't seen the footage, go here. I can't tell if Faith is actually ticked off that she was beat by an American Idol contestant or just goofing around. Either way, I can't stop watching the tape...

FAITH HILL STATEMENT:

"The idea that I would act disrespectful towards a fellow musician is unimaginable to me. For this to become a focus of attention given the talent gathered is utterly ridiculous. Carrie is a talented and deserving Female Vocalist of The Year."

GARY BORMAN (MANAGER) STATEMENT:

"I’ve worked with Faith for many years now and the idea that she would ever insult or undermine another artist, let alone another human being’s success is absolutely preposterous.  Those who know her know that she’s incapable of such actions.  She was being playful while the nominations were being read and playful after."

What's Good? Lupe Fiasco, My Chem

Lupe Fiasco

Album: Food & Liquor (Atlantic)

In stores: Now

Why we care: This Chicago hip-hopper first made waves after guesting on fellow Windy City stud Kanye West's Touch the Sky. But Lupe's relationship with mentor Jay-Z, who co-produced this endlessly smart debut, is the one that will pay the biggest dividends.

Why we like it: An Islamic black belt who'd rather kick-push a skateboard than bounce in a Benz, Lupe is a nimble, poetic rhymer who tells complex tales from the 'hood without spilling blood or spitting bullets. For a revelatory five-song stretch on Food & Liquor, Lupe and a who's who of hot producers (the Neptunes, Mike Shinoda) blend rap, rock, indie, funk, soul - and make his coming-out party one of the freshest hip-hop experiences in recent memory.

Reminds us of: A more humble Kanye West -- or is it a less-dictatorial Jay-Z? Either way, that's killer company.

Download these: Kick, Push; I Gotcha; The Instrumental

Grade: A

My Chemical Romance

Album: The Black Parade (Reprise)

In stores: Now

Why we care: On the quintet's most ambitious disc yet, those dark, decadent Jersey boys whip up a crazy, consistently rockin' concept album about a war-torn, blood-soaked world where disenchanted Generation Next is sick and tired -- and really in the mood for some Queen.

Why we like it: Behold the melodic grandeur, lyrical bite and genre-crashing bravado (opera, punk, burlesque, Broadway, prog, '50s rock), all of which singer Gerard Way ringleads with dramatic aplomb. The big, sweeping ballads get you right in the gut. And as far as we're concerned, that cheeky cameo by Liza Minnelli (Liza Minnelli?!) on the us-vs-them rage of Mama is the disc's pure-genius moment. Then again, that Cabaret-inspired hidden track is bizarro cool, too.

Reminds us of: American Idiot (in other words, when Green Day suddenly became so much more than smart, snotty punks - and suddenly became one of the biggest bands in the world).

Download these: Welcome to the Black Parade, I Don't Love You, Mama

Grade: A

What's In Sean's Mailbox: Trick Daddy

A couple of Fridays ago, I spent happy hour at Harry's Beach Bar in St. Pete Beach with Robin Zander and his lovely family. In between rummy boat drinks ("Yachts," I believe they're called), the lead singer of Cheap Trick was much more interested in talking about Tampa Bay (he's lived here 15 years now) and his beloved Bucs (he's predicting playoffs) than his band's new disc, Rockford. I'm writing up the story today -- it'll run this Friday, in advance of that night's Cheap Trick show at RibFest (at Vinoy Waterfront Park).

Here's today's extremely suspect mailbag...

Barry Manilow -- The Greatest Songs of the Sixties
Andrea Bocelli -- Under the Desert Sky
Various Artists -- Laguna Beach: Summer Can Last Forever
Various Artists -- Music From the O.C. Mix 6: Covering Our Tracks
Various Artists -- Cracker Barrel Presents: Songs of the Year

Hannah Montana: I Like Her

The soundtrack to Hannah Montana -- the Disney Channel phenomenon and rightful heir to the Lizzie McGuire throne -- is the No. 1 album in the country this week, selling 281,000 copies its first week of release. For those of you in the dark, Hannah -- a rock star by night, regular tweenage kid by day -- is played by Miley Cyrus, daughter of Billy Ray Cyrus, he of the Achy Breaky Heart.

I've never seen the show, but lemme tell you: The music is pretty damn catchy (like a tougher, smarter Shania Twain). The silly lyrics do nothing more than sell the brand (she's just like you, she gets the best of both worlds, and so on), but the music itself is quite often postpunky, thrusty and fun, with grinding guitars and Cars-esque keyboard swirls. If you're a parent and your kid is playing this stuff, consider yourself lucky.

Also, give Disney credit for getting smart and not underestimating the tween set. The Mouse House has had a helluva year saleswise, starting with High School Musical, a made-for-TV cast-off that turned into a DVD/CD leviathan. The acting, the story? Lousy. But the music? Just try not singing along. Kids are assaulted with good music like never before -- in commercials, on video games, on iTunes, on myspace -- so the tunes you're selling had better be good. Sure, they have the money to market the crap out of this stuff. But still, if you want the kids to sing along, you better make it catchy.

Guest DJ: Red Tide Playlist

A few blogations ago -- or right around the time my daughter killed Nemo -- GabeusCorpus commented with a downright brilliant playlist devoted to the scourge of Red Tide, that life-snuffing algal bloom terrorizing the Gulf Coast. It kills fish. It burns eyes. It just plain sinks. Anyway, I enjoyed Gabe's work so much, I thought I'd share it again. Here's his Red Tide playlist (which slyly references the great Don Knotts), followed by a few bonus tracks of my own. Feel free to play along...

Ol' Diamond Back Sturgeon -- Primus
Mister Limpet -- Thin White Rope
The Ocean Doesn't Want Me -- Tom Waits
Rollin' Stone (Catfish Blues) -- Muddy Waters
Dead Shrimp Blues -- Robert Johnson
Luminous Rose -- Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians
Le Poisson -- (the French Chef's song from The Little Mermaid)
Reba -- Phish

Fish Heads -- Barnes & Barnes
Too Many Fish in the Sea -- the Marvelettes
Don't Drink the Water -- Dave Matthews Band
Backwater -- Meat Puppets
That Smell -- Lynyrd Skynyrd

First Draft: "Hair and Now"

This Sunday, my epic travelogue about following hair-metal heroes Poison and Cinderella around the Sunshine State will finally run. Originally, my story was going to start with the following scene about a flash-friendly stripper with a BIG SECRET. But alas, tall, tan C.C. Orlando just didn't work as a lede, partially because her BIG SECRET was too filthy for a family newspaper (as was the picture of her Motley Crue thong). That said, I thought I'd give you a peak of the original lede anyway. It's a rough draft, but it's fun. By the way, if you really want to know C.C.'s secret, ask away, and maybe I'll tell you in the comments section.

****

C.C. Orlando has a naughty little secret.

She also has a naughty little Motley Crue thong.

In the mood for mischief outside Tampa’s St. Pete Times Forum, the tall buxom blonde isn’t the least bit shy about revealing either of them.

“It’s a party all year round in Florida, but this night is special!” wahoos the 32-year-old exotic dancer from Fort Myers, yanking up her tight black skirt. As C.C. gives a prolonged panty peak to the black-clad, wildly tressed masses buzzing around her, a silver skull ring on her middle finger winks in the fading Saturday light.

That skull knows the score: There’s nothing like a hair-metal party, especially here in the Sunshine State, where when it comes to rock music, the present is the past, and the past is perfect.

Orlando and her man Anthony, a warlockian 34-year-old with a muscular chest, gruff laugh and long brown hair, are in town for tonight’s double-bill: Poison and Cinderella. The famously hirsute bands are celebrating their 20th anniversaries of gender-bending braggadocio that was last fashionable 15 years ago — or whenever it was still cool for young men to use dangerous amounts of AquaNet.

“When these metal bands come to town,” C.C. says, “it’s allllways a special event.” She then giggles, turns to Anthony, and, with an NC17 grin, says, “Should I tell them?”

“Sure, baby,” Anthony says.

Orlando reveals her naughty secret, which turns out to be far too provocative for a family newspaper. We can tell you that C.C. took her stage name from Poison guitarist C.C. Deville — we just can’t tell you why.

As the stripper spills the bawdy beans, Anthony looks on with pride. On Halloween, Anthony and C.C. will be married. They’re in love, he says, and the music of Poison is the soundtrack of their union.

As a further sign of his affections, Anthony says that if one of the men in Poison or Cinderella takes an interest in C.C. tonight, she’s allowed to have some backstage fun. “Yeah," he says with a grin, "that’s been talked about."