Have you ever walked into a room and within seconds of entering been hit with the feeling that you've just made a terrible mistake? That once you've committed yourself to entering this space that you can't just turn around and leave because everyone would notice? That's kinda how I feel about these "State" songs I've been finding lately. You're probably wondering why Randy Newman hasn't been mentioned for the thirteenth time this month. He hasn't written a song about Maine from what I can find. I might not get around to Randy until, say, Baltimore. So instead, we plow ahead with what is lukewarm enthusiasm for a state that deservers better. I mean, look at this opener.
"Coast Of Maine"--Dick Curless: This is probably pretty good. With a name like Dick Curless and from a collection called A Tombstone Every Mile on the Bear Family record label, known for their exhaustive, ridiculously expensive (hey, they're imports!) boxed sets, well, this might be the greatest song ever devoted to Maine. It's got to be better than, say, Leon Russell's tune. Doncha think?
"Maine"--Coleman Hawkins: You know you're reaching when you have to include a JAZZ musician on your list. What blog do you think this is? Better Living Through MP3? I figured out that most jazz fans like jazz because they hear voices in their own heads, so they don't even realize they're listening to instrumental music. Incredible really. So next time someone tells you they really like that Miles Davis tune about the guy who kills the neighbor's dog, plan on moving soon.Maine"--John Linnell: Again, I must thank John Linnell for recording his album State Songs. I only wish he'd done an entire boxed set and included one for every state. Wisconsin will be here before I know it and I am going to be majorly screwed, unless of course I make something up, which I would of course never do because that would be wrong, unethical and suggest that I've cheated my way through many other important rites of passage in life. That 820 I got on my SATs was all pure me! That 2.3 GPA, again, all me. The getting fired from a reputable fast food establishment for failing to master the proper "oil to fry ratio," yeah, that was me winging it. And if you're one of those people who never got your pizza delivered back in New Jersey in 1987? Yeah, that was probably my fault. Sorry. But you should probably have had a salad anyway.