DAILY NEWS PICKS

The Commodores Reunite With Lionel Richie At Essence Fest [Billboard]

Former Manager of The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, Allen Klein Passes Away [NME]

“California Family Claims to See Michael Jackson’s Face in Tree” — No Joke Can Make That Headline Funnier [CBS13]

Foo Fighters Debut New Song At Obama’s USO 4th of July Party…Obama Pleased, But Really Wanted to Hear Grohl Cover “Tiny Dancer” [Spin]

Twilight Sad Tour U.S. With Frightened Rabbit – Fans Work Hard on Their Scottish Accents for Sing Alongs [Tripwire]

Radiohead Manager Brian Message Launches Polyphonic Records; Allows Artists to Keep Copyrights [NME]

Jack White Sets Up Subscription Service Through His Record Label; Cryptically Called “The Vault” [Spin]

Dinosaur Jr.’s/Sebadoh’s Lou Barlow to Release Goodnight Unknown October 6 [Pitchfork]

Listen to New Air Track, “Do the Joy” Now! It’s Robotic! Hypnotic! Dreamy! It Sounds Exactly Like Air! [Prefix]

Oasis’ Noel Gallagher Really Loves Drugs [Prefix]

compiled by Max Sebela

ART OF SONG
“Sway”
Jesse Malin
On Your Sleeve
2008 | One Little Indian

The Rolling Stones’ “Sway,” off their 1971 album Sticky Fingers – a production wrought with post-’60s doldrums, paranoia, and addiction (unzip with caution) – receives a contemporary reading on Jesse Malin’s On Your Sleeve, an entire album’s worth of cover songs, iPod-shuffle style (other artists mined include Jim Croce, The Flaming Lips, Elton John, and Tom Waits). Though the original version of the song, and the original band who recorded it, very strongly reflect the dark contours of the seventies, it remains relevant today. After all, the country is still at war, the economy is on its knees, and the hope for change, though comparatively drug free, has never been more desperate.

Malin sings “Sway” over a seductive chorus of synthesized, conspiratorial patterns, reminiscent of ex-Stones scenester Marianne Faithfull’s 2002 release, Kissin’ Time – an album also built on the strength of the songwriting talents of others. Without the sonic intrusions of Mick Taylor, in raucous form on his first official outing with the Stones, the lyrics are even more potent on the cover. Malin’s voice, also rippling with effects, delivers “Sway” with a hypnotic slickness befitting the soul drain it describes.
More on Jesse Malin | “Sway”

ART OF SONG
“Sway”
Jesse Malin
On Your Sleeve
2008 | One Little Indian

The Rolling Stones’ “Sway,” off their 1971 album Sticky Fingers – a production wrought with post-’60s doldrums, paranoia, and addiction (unzip with caution) – receives a contemporary reading on Jesse Malin’s On Your Sleeve, an entire album’s worth of cover songs, iPod-shuffle style (other artists mined include Jim Croce, The Flaming Lips, Elton John, and Tom Waits). Though the original version of the song, and the original band who recorded it, very strongly reflect the dark contours of the seventies, it remains relevant today. After all, the country is still at war, the economy is on its knees, and the hope for change, though comparatively drug free, has never been more desperate.

Malin sings “Sway” over a seductive chorus of synthesized, conspiratorial patterns, reminiscent of ex-Stones scenester Marianne Faithfull’s 2002 release, Kissin’ Time – an album also built on the strength of the songwriting talents of others. Without the sonic intrusions of Mick Taylor, in raucous form on his first official outing with the Stones, the lyrics are even more potent on the cover. Malin’s voice, also rippling with effects, delivers “Sway” with a hypnotic slickness befitting the soul drain it describes.
More on Jesse Malin | “Sway”

ART OF SONG
“Back Street Girl”
The Rolling Stones
Between the Buttons (U.K.); Flowers (U.S.)
1966; 1967 | Abkco

A harmless song to start, a gentle, mannered melody; the guitar intro bows and genuflects as it goes, exhibiting its lacey sleeves; white-gloved fingers offer themselves to prim strings; arm in arm, they waltz into the opening verse. It is a song which requests the pleasure of your company. It is a song that places its coat over a puddle to smooth your path. It is a song that wants to be your prince. Can it really be so noble, so decent, so genteel?

The song is “Back Street Girl” by The Rolling Stones, circa 1966-7 — so no, it can’t. Once the lyrics kick in, the gentleman freezes his stare, removes his gloves, puts on a sneer, and puts an end to the farce of his chivalry, like Henry VIII in his mistress’ bedchamber. Though the volume of the song remains polite (besides a rousing musical interlude with resplendent accordion) and Mick Jagger’s delivery remains restrained, the lyrics betray a cruel cad, a foppish player with an iota of respect for the ladies. The words are simple, effective, and especially horrid, cushioned as they are in the gleaming carriage of the band’s polite playing.
More on Art of Song: “Back Street Girl”