Talking Heads

David Byrne is an artistic genius. That’s not some hot take, but it’s important for us to roll around in it every once in awhile. I recently rewatched Stop Making Sense and it’s still the greatest concert film in history. Again, not a hot take, but it holds true after all these years. The stagecraft. The energy. The infectious beats. It starts the moment he walks out on the empty stage, boom box in hand, and treats us to a sparse rendition of Psycho Killer. Then gradually builds into this frenetic, sweaty celebration that feels almost reckless but so very tight. Here we’ve got “My Girlfriend’s Better,” which is an absolute banger that gets you nodding from the start. I could have picked any number of songs from this masterpiece, but you’ve got to go with the Big Suit®. If you’re pressed for time, go ahead and skip to 3:15 for the killer boogie oogie dance moves. Legend.

Jim Ladd

Before there was Spotify, XM Sirius, Youtube or even MTV, there was Jim Ladd. Filling the airwaves with his sonic therapy. Whether on KMET, KLOS, KMPC or even KNAC (before it was the holy grail of Metal), he turned my mind on to bluesy, psychedelic classic rock as I grew into my teenage body. “The Last DJ” was a legend in the business, and the attached video is from his weekly program "Headsets,” an ethereal, hour-long curated set of tunes, sounds and random dialogue he designed to be listened to with headphones and an altered conscious. A legendary program, from a legendary dude.

Wet Leg

Poppy. Fuzzy. Fresh. Wet Leg effervesces a nonchalant cool with staccato beats, catchy hooks, and a dry wit that pulls you in like a tractor beam from the Death Star. Except the Death Star is sitting in a field in London, overrun by goats, and Vincent Gallo sells DVDs out the back.

Marcus King

This guy is all over the place, in a good way. First you’re thinking he’s the next coming of Neil Young. Then he hits you with a silky smooth Motown vibe out of nowhere. Then? Then he launches this sweaty blues rocket straight from a revival in the deep south. And it lands. Hard. I do recommend you check out the vibey “One Day She’s Here,” but “The Well” is a good introduction with its heavy, slashing, bluesy guitar riff and gritty vocals that put your soul on notice. I dig it. Looking forward to his next album.

Hall & Oates

Daryl Hall and John Oates. You may love them. You may never think about them until Maneater or Private Eyes randomly comes on the 80s Sirius Channel. But these guys are absolute legends, and probably still underrated. Their catalog spans decades and is full of sultry soul, funky pop, folksy ballads and straight up bangers. If you get a chance, go see them live and tell me “I Can’t Go for That” doesn’t absolutely slap. I chose a more mellow track here to showcase the soul of the band. From the first organ notes, you’re drawn in to this melancholy tale as it slowly builds to a crescendo of Daryl Hall spilling his guts out, torn between begging his girl to come back and telling her to just go on and go. Gripping. Emotional. And way more soulful than you’d expect from a guy that looked like Don Johnson decided to join Flock of Seagulls.

FIDLAR

FIDLAR does not give a crap what you think about their music. They are doing whatever they want and it is awesome. The punk band out of LA harnesses old school energy and sloppy-tight thrash on tracks like this one from their debut EP. Later tracks evolve and drift down various piss-stained alleys, some more polished than others, but they all remain true to the spirit of the band.

Black Eyed Peas

I know, but hear me out. Fergie and her humps are nowhere to be seen on this album. That’s not necessarily a dig on Fergie, and honestly I don’t know if it has anything to do with it, but the sound is much different without her. They’re back to the original three, and they’ve gone from big pop hooks back to the old school fusion of funk, soul, hip hop and rhymes. Killer rhymes. Killer beats. Killer melodies. Killer cameos by guys like Nas, Slick Rick and a couple female artists that bring some serious talent. Cover to cover this thing bounces and grooves its way through so many good tracks. I’ve had this one on repeat in my car for a week.

Adolescents

We lost a punk rock legend recently. Steve Soto founded the Adolescents back in 1980, helping to usher in the Orange County hardcore punk scene with other bands like Social Distortion and Agent Orange. Throw in some bands from up the 405 a bit like TSOL, Circle Jerks and Black Flag, and So Cal punk raced along with the help of the Adolescents in furious one-and-a-half minute, mosh-inducing sonic blasts. Soto and the Adolescents brought a harmonic element to the music that can be heard here in Amoeba, off their self-titled debut album. This is from a live show sometime in the 2000s. They may be older, but they still bring it.

Thelonious Monk

I don't pretend to be a huge jazz head, but I do love me some Miles, Mingus and Monk. I always dug the stilted way Thelonious played. I chose this one because someone once said "If you want to get a better understanding of jazz, listen to the album 'Thelonious Plays Duke Ellington.'" I'm paraphrasing and I can't even remember who it was, probably Wynton Marsalis. But the point behind it was that you can take these standards that we all know, put them in someone else's hands, and have a totally new take on the song while still being instantly recognizable. Check out Thelonious banging out this classic with the velvet hammers he calls fingers. 

Thelonious Monk Plays the Music of Duke Ellington (1955) Personnel: Thelonious Monk (Piano) Oscar Pettiford (Bass) Kenny Clarke (Drums) -- Orrin Keepnews (Producer)

Cage the Elephant

I'm choosing a live video clip, because the studio tracks can't possibly capture the raw energy of a Cage the Elephant show. I saw my first one a few weeks ago, and became an immediate fan. From what I can tell, they usually end with this song, and you couldn't choose a better closer. Pounding, straightforward, hooky guitar riff and rollicking drums lay a bed for an absolute maniac of a frontman, leaving the audience wondering what the hell just punched them in the chest. Matt Shultz is in better shape than me. The guy kept up this level of energy for the entire hour-long set. It's like Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop had a baby in a Kentucky garage. So fun to watch live. You can skip the last three minutes of this video because it's mostly feedback while Shultz crowd surfs, but give the first couple minutes a gander. Are you into the beat?

Creedence Clearwater Revival

This one goes way back for me. Mom dropping the needle on turntable and filling the house with the timeless grooves of CCR. The slow swing of the rhythm section, mixed with the emotion in Fogerty's voice rings the tuning fork in my soul. Tough to pick just one Creedence song, but this has always been a favorite of mine. Next time you're in a dark, semi-crappy bar, drinking and shooting pool, head over to the jukebox. If you see Long as I See the Light in the catalog, put your money in, order another whiskey and rack 'em up.

Queens of the Stone Age

Two in one day, and some good old rock n roll lest you think I'm going soft. Off the album this blog was named for, No One Knows is a driving force of rock, relentlessly pounding beats into your ear drums. Josh Homme (pronounced Homm-E) put together a tremendous album with the help of Dave Grohl murdering the drums with seemingly reckless precision. A fine album to drive through the desert to.