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1. Neko Case, “Thrice All American.” Neko’s love song to Tacoma — where my family lived for a year when I was about eight.  Can’t say that I ever loved the place the same way that Neko (or her singing persona) does.  My main memories are of being an awkward, gawky kid who was an unwilling teacher’s pet . . . and got picked on a helluva lot as a result.  Ah, sweet youth!
2. Marilyn Monroe, “Some Like It Hot.” Can I explain this track’s presence here quickly and simply?  Hmm.  Probably not.  Not high on my usual rotation these days, but it made sense at the time.
3. Pink, “Oh My God.” Probably one of the more NSFW tunes on my iPod.  At least in any workplace where sultry groans are considered to be inappropriate.
4. Aretha Franklin, “Rock Steady.” Let’s call this song exactly what it is (what it is, what it is, what it is) . . .
5. Slim Harpo, “Baby, Scratch My Back.” It seems that this week’s randomness seems intent on delivering up a wide variety of steamy tuneage . . .
6. Ernie, “Rubber Duckie.” . . . or maybe not.  This isn’t even remotely sexy.  Quick ‘n’ quirky, yes.  (And that’s actually the name of the self-made compilation that’s responsible for this bit of childhood ephemera on my iPod.)  But quite a shift in mood from Slim Harpo growling at his “baby” to come and scratch his back.  Though, now that I listen more closely, Ernie does seem awfully interested in scrubbing his little duckie’s back.
7. Rolf Harris, “The Good Ship Venus.” Harris is the same fellow who gave the world a hit version of “Tie Me Kangaroo Down.”  This is a bawdy old sea shanty that Harris actually manages to perform as a jolly, family-friendly sing-along. There are a few double entendres here that the kids in the audience undoubtedly don’t get.  There’s a version by Loudon Wainwright III (of “Dead Skunk” fame), however, that’s easily one of the filthiest tunes ever recorded.  Don’t ask how the skipper in that version gets circumsized.  Just don’t.
8. Sam Cooke, “Soothe Me.” Sometimes, there just aren’t enough O’s in smooooooth.
9. Spinners, “Mighty Love.” Another track courtesy of that massive and glorious Atlantic Rhythm and Blues 1947-1974 boxed set.  Mind you, by the time we get to the last disc (which is where this track comes from), the “rhythm and blues” label feels incredibly anachronistic.  But that’s a side issue for another day.
10. Howlin’ Wolf, “Evil.” One of the baddest badasses of the blues doin’ it to it.  A long way from “Rubber Duckie,” that’s for damned sure.

. . . and hide the children.  Coming to St. Paul for a special two-for-one concert this May?  Elton John and Billy Joel.  Which means the whole state will be crawling with the deadliest of earworms for weeks.  Months, even.

1. Booker T. & the MGs, “Green Onions.”
2. Bonnie Raitt, “Fools Game.”
3. Clyde McPhatter & the Drifters, “Honey Love.”
4. Clyde McPhatter & the Drifters, “Such a Night.”
5. Irma Thomas, “Time Is on My Side.”
6. Concrete Blonde, “Run Run Run.”
7. Blondie, “One Way or Another.”
8. Solomon Burke, “Presents for Christmas.”
9. Diana Ross & the Supremes, “Love Is Like an Itching in My Heart.”
10. Eric Idle, “FCC Song.”

No extended song-by-song commentary this week, I’m afraid.  Classes begin tomorrow and I’ve miles to go before I sleep.  But I will note that the world really needs to be reminded about the Irma Thomas tune above.  Which is not a cover version.  It’s the original.  And vastly superior (IMHO) to the Stones’ cover version (and that isn’t so much a critique of Mick and Keith and Brian as it is high praise for Irma).

My friend Elena likes to tell a story about grading student papers while some Jacques Cousteau special was playing on the TV as background noise. While she was gawking at what her charges had managed to do to logic, reason, and the English language, Cousteau was commenting on one of the eternal mysteries of the sea. I’m not sure (and I don’t know if Elena remembers) just what bit of maritime biology Cousteau was talking about, but the phrase he used — “No one knows why they do what they do” — rapidly became our standard response to whatever baffling student behavior manifested itself in our classes.

I’m teaching two courses this semester. Both of them are filled to capacity, which means that students who want to get into either of those courses either have to hope for a fortuitously timed drop by someone currently in the class, or they need to ask me for a permission number to get added to the roster. Since registration for spring courses began a couple of months ago, I’ve probably had two dozen queries along these lines. Most of which have been pretty straightforward and easy to handle: the student in question sends me an email, asks about one of my two courses by name, and I tell them I’ve added their name to the relevant waitlist.

But I’ve also had at least half a dozen queries by students whose requests to get into my course ignore “little” details like specifying which course they want to join. At least three queries from students who don’t provide me with their full names (’cause, of course, there’s only going to be one Chris or Elizabeth or John who might show up in my classroom (either of them) on Day One). And at least two queries from students expressing a strong and profound interest in taking my course . . . in an email that’s actually addressed to the instructors of three or four different courses that the student in question wants to get into.

No one knows why they do what they do, indeed . . .

PS: How did I forget to include this bit? About 25% of the students who I’ve written back, asking for (a) their full name and/or (b) the course they want to join, have never written me back again. I suppose that’s good. If you have a hard time answering either of those questions, after all, you’re going to have a helluva time with an actual exam or a research paper.

It’s been too long, I know. And I’m certainly not the first blogger to turn to the shuffle feature on their handy stack of mp3s into a cheap way to generate some regular content. But several months of blog silence tells me that I shouldn’t turn my nose up at cheap, unoriginal tricks, should I?

So. Here we go. The next ten shuffled tracks off of my iPod (with side comments, as the situation warrants), no matter what the effect might be on any residual cred I’ve still got. I’ll try to make this a weekly thing. Mondays should be pretty good for me in that regard this semester. It’s a prep day, but a little blogging makes for a good prep break, yes?

1. Jon Rauhouse, “F86.” Rauhouse plays pedal steel guitar for Neko Case — and damned fine pedal steel it is, too. Not sure if there’s any other way I would ever have stumbled across his stuff long enough to bother picking up any of his CDs, and I find them to be hard to listen to straight through in one sitting. Not ’cause they’re bad (they’re not), but because there’s only such much instrumental pedal steel I can take in one dose. But he’s actually great to have come up in shuffle mode every so often.
2. Big Joe Turner, “Shake, Rattle, and Roll.” An r&b classic. With some of the dirtiest clean lyrics I know of. “I’m like a one-eyed cat peeping in a seafood store. But I can look at you till you ain’t no child no more.” Bill Haley and the Comets did a lamer, tamer version of this that was a bigger hit. But this is the version to chase down and keep.
3. Nine Inch Nails vs. Spice Girls, “Closer to Wannabe.” One of my fave mashups. Whoever has the idea to put “Closer” and “Wannabe” together has a warped mind and a wicked ear, in all the best ways.
4. Byrds, “Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season).” I teach courses on pop music just often enough to have a bunch of “classic” rock on my iPod. I probably wouldn’t seek out this track on my own too often these days, but if you have to have a bit of mid-60s folk-rock-pop floating around in your head, this track isn’t such a bad choice.
5. Dr. John & the Lower 911, “Keep on Goin’.” A track from City That Care Forgot, the angry (even if it “ain’t as mad as it coulda been”) post-Katrina CD released by a N’awlins musical legend.
6. Barrel House Annie, “If It Don’t Fit (Don’t Force It).” Classic dirty blues about the eternal problem of trying to house oversized farm animals. “It may not stretch, it may not tear at all, but you’ll never back that big mule up in my stall.” (Huh? What did you think it was about?)
7. Heatwave, “Grooveline.” What the hell ever happened to this group? Between this track and “Boogie Nights” alone, they produced some of the finest dance-funk of the ’70s. But who knows about them any more? Okay, okay. You knew. But you’ve clearly got taste. But why doesn’t anyone else?
8. Aretha Franklin, “Day Dreamin’.” Courtesy of the very fine, super fine, ultra fine Atlantic Rhythm ‘n’ Blues 1947-1974 box set. I actually bought this set on vinyl, one double-record album at a time, when it was first released. And it was a marvelous introduction to a great swath of music I’d never heard before (the Big Joe Turner track above is on one of the early volumes). And it was high on my “must-upgrade” list when I finally made the switch to CDs.
9. Billy Bragg, “I Keep Faith.” Opening track of Bragg’s most recent album, Mr. Love & Justice. And his show at the Cedar Cultural Center was one of the live musical highlights of 2008 for me. Just him and a guitar and a helluva lot of great energy. At one point, he joked from the stage that we should all become his Facebook friends. Turns out, he wasn’t joking. Go on. Go to Facebook. Search for “Billy Bragg.” Then ask to be his friend. He’ll say Yes.
10. Bruce Springsteen, “Born in the USA” (live). This isn’t the fist-pumping full-band live version from the 1975-85 live box set. It’s the raw, angry, acoustic version from the NYC live set. The version where I think Bruce finally figured out a way to play the song so that it became impossible to hear as the jingoistic bit of patriotism that many people treated it as for so long. You can hear the crowd try to push him into that spirit a bit here. he sings the chorus, they start cheering madly, as if they’re anticipating the full band will kick in and give them the “Ain’t America the Best” anthem they want . . . but they don’t get it. And it’s better that way.

Damn. I got lucky. Nothing shameful at all in that randomness. Maybe next week.