Considering that I'm handling Chicago as its own place, Illinois suffers a minor setback, invalidating a number of great tunes, even "The Night Chicago Died" by Paper Lace that didn't make my final Chicago cut. I must stand for consistency. There are so many parts of this country that are clearly underrepresented and I can see how they'd grow to become resentful when no one pays attention to them. Sounds strikingly similar to my own experience. And maybe yours.

It's like that TV commercial where the guy offers up his idea and everyone ignores him while seconds later another employee says the same thing with hand gestures and suddenly it's a brilliant idea. Maybe Illinois should work on its hand gestures.

"The Carbondale Strut"--Isaac Guillory: I know Carbondale is in Illinois. Knowing how this country likes to name things the same all over the place, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there are many Carbondales. Well, Isaac Guillory's first solo album--he was in the Cryin'

While states like Connecticut and Delaware didn't seem to inspire songwriters the same way as California, nothing prepared me for the enthusiasm that meets Georgia. When songwriters write about Georgia, they do so with an emphasis on concept. They just don't lame out with "Georgia Rain" or "Georgia Sunshine," but settle in for actual details. Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup had a song called "Going Back To Georgia," while the Blues Magoos decided they were "Never Goin' Back To Georgia." That's why we're still considered a free country, even if sometimes when you're paying your taxes it doesn't feel all that free.

Anyhow, many of these tunes have been covered many times over, proving that many people love to do what many others have already done. If 1,000 people can cover "Yesterday," why shouldn't 200 give "Georgia On My Mind" a shot? But, seriously, why so many?

"The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia"--Vicki Lawrence: Apparently one of Georgia's great selling points is the consistency of

New York City consists of five boroughs, Long Island and the State of New Jersey. The only part anyone ever wrote or cared about was Manhattan and occasionally Brooklyn. Now that Manhattan real estate has priced just about everyone out of living there (it's like Yogi Berra used to say. Nobody goes there. It's too crowded.), people pretend Brooklyn is the only place to be. Each neighborhood has a neighborhood inside of itself with some useless nickname or acronym that even the locals can't keep up with.

Songs about the fair city are too numerous to actually consider. I generally decided to stick with songs that put New York in the title. But then when I tried to think of the prototypical New York band--would it be the New York Dolls, the Ramones, the Strokes?--I settled on the most obvious and greatest of the New York groups: the Rolling Stones. What, you say? They're British? Yeah, sure, technically. But, c'mon, they've gotten past that. Maybe Charlie still raises sheepdogs over on

Well, I've found the first month that few dare write a song for. And, truth told, most of them aren't really writing about the month, but rather about taking a long walk. But we here at List Of The Day occasionally stretch the truth for our own ends. It's what keeps up believing in a better world someday, one without poverty and greed and with all-night chicken stands.

Let's get this one over with, shall we?

"Ides of March"--Iron Maiden: Crap, it's an instrumental that leads into the rest of the album. I went to high school with guys that were very into Iron Maiden. They had that Eddie character drawn on the back of their denim jackets and they'd often ask anyone within earshot: "Am I Evil?" to which most of us would just nod and say, "Yes, you're evil. You're very, very evil. Now please let me get to class."

"Ides of March"--John Cale-Terry Riley: In some ways John Cale and Terry Riley were the Iron Maiden of their day. Heavy dudes with lots of street cred. You didn't mess with them.