It’s supposed to be the most depressing song in the world. It was allegedly banned in Hungary because of its devastating effects. Spurned lovers were found drowned in the Danube, the sheet music clutched in their fingers. Lonely women lay back on their beds and slipped into oblivion as the gramophone needle ground through the grooves.

The song is “Gloomy Sunday” – Billie Holiday recorded the most famous version in 1941 – and a lot of the moral panic surrounding ‘the Hungarian suicide song’ is a mixture of urban myth and cannily morbid marketing. It was written in 1933, both the original Hungarian lyrics by Laszlo Javor and the English translation deal with a lost, dead lover and the singer’s own thoughts of suicide. The composer, Reszo Seress, jumped to his death from a window in 1968. Billie McKenzie of the Associates, who covered the song, also killed himself. But Bjork, Elvis Costello, Lydia Lunch and many others have all covered it too and most of them are okay.

It’s interesting that people are so ready to ascribe blame to music. It seems natural, if sad, that those of a depressive bent would be drawn to a miserable, yet beautiful, song, in the same way that those who feel alienated would tend towards Marilyn Manson (to give a reasonably contemporary folk devil.) It says a lot about music’s power, to inspire, to terrify, to confuse, that any claim of ‘the song made me do it’ is even halfway believable. Of all other art forms only film has copped as much stick. Can you really imagine paintings frequently blamed for encouraging murder, or an architectural triumph cited as a cause of lewd behaviour?

The Good
Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem – The Muppet Show

The best-non human rock band in the world – the only difficulty is picking your favourite member – the gold-canined Doctor or slinky flower child Janis?

The Crescendolls – Interstella 555

Supremely talented aliens – they play a great show even when kidnapped and brainwashed by evil music moguls. And don’t they sound awfully like Daft Punk?

The Stains – Ladies and Gentlemen The Fabulous Stains

Taking great pride in not putting out and fronted by Diane Lane, we have The Stains. With immense attitude, a great look and some proper snarky-spiky punk, this all-girl three-piece are an inspiration. I wish this band actually existed -ideally I’d have liked to be a member. Even their new wave MTV makeover is great – although it’s supposed to be a sad symptom of selling out.

The Commitments – The Commitments

Dublin’s finest soul band. Prepared to play anywhere, from church fetes to packed clubs with a mysterious older man on trumpet who many or may not have played with Wilson Picket. Sadly The Commitments imploded before they got their shot at the big time.

The Bad

The New Breed – St Elmo’s Fire

I think this really is the bottom of the pile – Rob Lowe as the overly-sweaty sax player in possibly the worst fictional band of all time. The music is the worst kind of pompous 80s soft rock. Then there’s everything Demi Moore as Jules says and does – from the “boffing your boss” conversation to draping herself all over the stage and snogging Lowe. We shouldn’t forget the hideous gay stereotypes (“he’s my decorator!”) either. But it’s kind of hard to think about anything at all with that idiotic saxophone in the background.

Special Mention
Autobahn – The Big Lebowski

You never get to see Autobahn, the group of German nihilists from The Big Lebowski, play any music. Baths with marmosets and de-toeing girlfriends, yes, but never any music. Nonetheless I have high hopes for their techno-Krautrock blend.

Over to you. Any more suggestions?

You may or may not have noticed a big flash piece on our homepage today announcing the 80th anniversary of Mississippi John Hurt’s ridiculously amazing OKEH sessions, collected on eMusic here. Those original Hurt recordings have long been precious to me, and I still rate them among the best music I have ever heard. My dad first turned me onto them — I know for a fact that he got a kick out of teaching me the ribald “Candyman” on guitar when I was 12 — and more than anything else he played me outside of Doc Watson, these songs have stuck with me.

Hurt was a helluva guitar player — no denying it. His finger picking is swift and lithe, but there’s way more to it than dexterity or chops: he had such an immaculate feel for the guitar, he could make it flutter like a beautiful woman’s eyelids, make it halt in its tracks as if confronted with a ghost. And Hurt’s voice, always so playful and sneering, thoroughly modern in its stresses and cracks, owning an incredible recording like “Frankie” without even trying, the little hums and foreboding smirks ingrained in how he developed as a performer. Though the OKEH sessions are, of course, blues recordings, they surpass the blues’ form and structure, moving straight into the realm of folklore and miracles. It’s that good.

An amazing “Candyman” performance from the Newport Folk Festival:

We received a number of Loren Connors discs on the site in the past few days. Normally, I would’ve just written it off as avant-guitar sketches that I’m not that interested in. But after reading Marc Masters’ feature on him in The Wire this month, I decided to take a listen to some of these digital reissues.

Loren Connors – As Roses Bow: Collected Airs 1992-2002

This two CD tribute to Connors’ Irish heritage takes tracks from ten different previously released albums. As Masters’ writes in his piece, Connors is busy here “massaging simple tones and phrases repeatedly.” The songs are short and minimal things (not great for subscription downloading services, I know…), exploring little more than a dreamy, atmospheric space. Surprisingly, considering the circumstances, the material hangs together quite well as one piece.

Loren Connors – Moonyean

Connors’ guitar is quite a bit more expressive on Moonyean (“Moonyean 2,” for instance), although a few of the tracks from this release pop up on As Roses Bow. The album is about a fictional woman, so it’s pretty easy to impose past personal relationships on these depressing tunes.

Loren Connors – Hell’s Kitchen Park

This one is from 1993 and, in opposition to the strung-out and atmospheric tone poems of his later work, I find much of Hell’s Kitchen to be fairly precise. Many of the guitar sounds you’ll hear on the first couple of tracks like “Mother & Son” and “New Morning” are round and short. I’m wholly unknowledgeable when it comes to talking about the technical aspects of guitar tone, so I’m sure he just turned on a button on his electric to make it happen, but when taken in concert with the usual drifting and loose tendrils of melody, it makes for a nice bit of tension.

Loren Connors & Suzanne Langille – Crucible

Loren has worked quite a bit with his wife, singer Suzanne Langille: two of the best songs on Hell’s Kitchen are collaborations with her (“Child” and “Brigid’s Song”). Here, they work apart: Connors’ and Langille’s contributions are both a cappella. Definitely not my favorite of the bunch.

Loren Connors – 9th Avenue

Originally released in 1995, 9th Avenue sounds to these ears pretty much in love with more conventional guitar solos. Of course, with Connors, it’s never quite that easy: these are solos drenched in heavy reverb and extended for much longer than the usual ten or twenty seconds afforded to a regular rock band’s ax man. Here, on “In Cushman’s Row,” “Dawn On 47th” and “Stilled Wind” you can hear the desiccated remains of Keith Richards licks, stripped of both their swagger and pomp.

This afternoon I found my first grey hair. My pessimistic side is thinking ‘oh OH NO GREY HAIR aging process accelerating at speed!’ whilst my cheerier side thinks ‘at least it’s a kind of Meryl-Streep-In-Devil-Wears-Prada-silver.’ I have decided to mark this event in the time-honoured fashion of music bloggers everywhere and have made a playlist.

‘I Don’t Care What People Say’ – The Silver Apples
‘Out of The Grey’ – The Dream Syndicate
‘Fade To Grey’ – Nouvelle Vague
‘Silver’ – The Pixies
‘Silver Machine’ – Hawkwind
‘Grey Goose’ – Lead Belly
‘Grey Gardens’ FCS North

It’s a testing time, so just humour me here.

While I’m by no means implying that other days around here are merely ho-hum, today is kind of a big deal at eMusic. Not only do we have a whole host of exciting new releases — Beirut! Kevin Drew! Les Savy Fav! — but today also sees the launch of our new audiobooks service. We hope you’re excited about diving in as we’ve been about putting it together.

To start, you can take a look at this introductory column from our Audibooks store manager Maris Kreizman, have a look at our first eMusic Bookshelf (like Dozens for books), or browse some of our noteworthy titles. Pick up that book you’ve always been meaning to read and take it with you on your long commute or weekend drive.

And if that’s not enough excitement for you, we’ve got a whole spate of new releases just begging to be downloaded.

Beirut, The Flying Club Cup: Well, this is a pleasant surprise! Arriving on eMusic three weeks before it shows up in stores is Beirut’s The Flying Club Cup. Be sure to check Todd’s longer post just below this one to get the full scoop.

Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew, Spirit If…: One of the two frontmen for the Canadian collective Broken Social Scene steps out on his own on this warm, modest album of chugging rock songs. Less ornamented than BSS, this one finds Drew honing his songwriting chops and calling on a few friends (Leslie Feist, J. Mascis, Emily Haines) to liven things up.

Les Savy Fav, Let’s Stay Friends: Indie’s angry court jesters return with their first record in six years. They’re just as worked up an aggravated as ever, and this new one pushes their energy and intensity to the breaking point.

Various Artists, Song of America: Former Attorney General Janet Reno curated this expansive collection that aims to document the evolution of American song. We have an interview with both Reno and co-curator Ed Petterson coming to the site in just a few days, so now’s the perfect time to familiarize yourself with the fruits of their labor.

The Donnas, Bitchin’: Full-on brawny rock from the Donnas, this one heavily indebted to Van Halen’s flawless debut. It may be too late for the summer rock record, but this one will help you ride out the rest of the year — tough, snarling rock with hooks and choruses galore.

James Luther Dickinson, Killers From Space: Legendary blues pianist/organist who’s worked with everyone from Aretha Franklin to Rocket from the Crypt (how’s that for a career arc?) turns in this good-n-greasy solo album.

Havoc, The Kush: I haven’t listened to this yet, but wanted to at least point it out for the hip-hop heads who read here. Havoc is half of Mobb Deep, and this is his first solo album — if it’s even half as good as the Prodigy record that came out earlier in the year, we’re in for a treat. Anyone have any advance word? And just an additional endorsement: if you like ’90s hip-hop and haven’t grabbed the Prodigy record yet, do so immediately. It’s a new classic. All together now: “I got you stuck off the realness…”

Percee P, Perseverance: I love Percee P, but I have to express just a little disappointment with this (though I should probably couch that by saying I’ve been waiting close to three years for this record, so expectations were very high). Percee’s got a motormouthed flow and is hands-down one of the best lyricists in hip-hop, but I’m not sure Madlib’s laid-back production really suits his style. I’m confident this will grow on me, but as of right now I still favor his hard-to-come-by street mixtape Legendary Status.

WZT Hearts, Threads Rope Spell Making Your Bones: Maryland group with a keen taste for noise puts together a record that’s glitchy and boomy and bound to thrill those whose tastes skew more experimental.

So much to talk about. Let’s do this:

A Place to Bury Strangers – A Place to Bury Strangers

Well, I don’t get quite it except for “Don’t Think Lover,” but, then again, I’m probably not playing it loud enough. Pitchfork, however, loves it and had this to say:

Compiling mastered versions of the band’s early CD-Rs and mp3s, A Place to Bury Strangers’ self-titled debut LP sets tinnitus-inducing noise-pop against a tension-wracked Joy Division-meets-Ministry backdrop. Plenty of bands have tapped the trebly, ecstatic side of shoegaze in recent years, but none have imbued it with this band’s frustrated aggression or lacerating feedback.

Danuel Tate – Pushcard

A new Wagon Repair EP that simultaneously pushes things forward for the label and hearkens back to their base competency (huge analog bass sounds, tracks that sound “live”). eMusic contributor Michaelangelo Matos is a fan of “Bloss,” while I prefer the title track. Do yourself a favor and grab both.

Luke Vibert & Jean Jacques Perrey – Moog Acid

Another Vibert collaboration, this time with the electronic pioneer Jean Jacques Perrey. The tracks range from hipster lounge music to bangers, but the wicked sense of humor of both is the constant theme.

Skatalites – Rolling Steady: The 1983 Music Mountain Sessions

Ye olde press release:

UNRELEASED SKATALITES ALBUM DISCOVERED: ‘Rolling Steady With The Skatalites: The 1983 Music Mountain Sessions’.

Motion is extremely excited to announce the release of an album recorded in 1983 when the Skatalites reformed to appear at Jamaica’s Sunsplash Festival. Ten tracks were recorded at Music Mountain studio under the guidance of producer/promoter Tony Owens. Eight tracks were finished but two were left unfinished (the horns were still to be recorded) and these may appear on the CD version as bonus tracks. Only one of these songs, Big Trombone, has been heard before [a live version appears on the Stretching Out album] The other nine are, we believe, being heard for the first time. We are aiming for an October release.

Musicians: Jackie Mittoo – Piano. Tommy McCook – Sax. Lester Sterling – Sax. Roland Alphonso – Sax. Johnnie Moore – Trumpet. Lloyd Knibb – Drums. Lloyd Brevett – Acoustic Bass. Jah Jerry – Guitar. Calvin Cameron – Trombone. Lord Tanamo (Joseph Gordon) – vocal on Big Trombone.

Commentary: I’ve got my soundtrack for the rest of the day.

Skepta – Greatest Hits

Second-rate UK garage dude comically calls his debut record Greatest Hits. That’s about as witty as it gets, as far as I can tell. Anyone a fan? I’d love to be converted…

Robert Johnson and Big Bill Broonzy – Kings Of Blues Vol.1

Classic and pretty well-recorded(!) blues.

Tiger Stripes – Safari

Swedish up-and-comer brings some rainforest house (as Beatportal calls it) to the masses. Try “The Voyage”: it’s one of my favorite house tracks of the year.

Black Devil Disco Club – Ride Again

Three remixes of tunes from Black Devil Disco Club’s that are already on Black Devil Disco Club in Dub. Whatever, Prins Thomas is still as awesome as ever.

Shantel – Disko Partizani

The European analogue to Eugene Hutz (i.e. the guy who helped make it cool to like Balkan music.) Shantel, though, as you might expect from the European part, is more of an electronic guy and these are very hip-hop influenced. Not sure I like it very much, though. Many of the songs lack the infectious energy of Gogol or Balkan Beat Box.

Blood Money – Axis of Blood

Jon Whitney, the propreitor of the awesome site Brainwashed.com, is one-third of Current 93-lovers Blood Money. That means this release comes replete with the sort of evil drones and walls of static. Nice.

Japanther – Skuffed Up My Huffy

Drummer/vocalist Ian Vanek and bassist/vocalist Matt Reilly have been releasing records at about a rate of one per year. Even so, I don’t really know much about ‘em, so I’ll just rely on Eric Grandy of The Stranger‘s Line Out blog:

On their new album, Skuffed Up My Huffy, Japanther revive some previously recorded tracks—“The Boss” (which appeared on Don’t Trust Anyone Over 30 and Yer Living Grave), “Mornings” (which appeared on Master of Pigeons)—and they lay down recent live favorites “River Phoenix,” “Challenge,” “Cable Babies,” and “Fuk Tha Prince A Pull Iz Dum.”

Jean Pierre Dupuy – John Cage: Sonatas and Interludes

Avant piano goodness.

Sam Frank – The Hour

Yancey recommended I check this one out and I’m glad I did. Its samples are all over the map, reflecting a guy about as schizophrenic as can be: one look at the cover art will confirm. It goes from delicate singer-songwriter stuff (“You Know Me Well”) to blurting muscle rock (“Yeahgodamnitallrightok”) to filthy-tongued dubby techno (“Like My Name Was Kenny”) in the span of four songs. Definitely a weird one.

Three quick recommendations. Ready. Set. Go.

Vanguard Visionaries Series: There is some impeccable stuff packed on these little best-of collections, with material from Doc Watson, Joan Baez, John Fahey, Junior Wells, Skip James, Buddy Guy, Country Joe, etc. Just some spectacular material from the Vanguard catalogue. My sleeper pick: the wonderful Jim Kweskin.

Supersilent, Supersilent 6: Our own Todd Burns should weigh in on this one, as this is a favorite record of his, so for now I simply direct you to this 9.1 Pitchfork review.

Fog, Ditherer: The new album from Fog… that I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t have. Ahem.

Jon Spencer, where are you? Thirteen years ago — how could it be so long? — you were on top of the indie scrap-heap, yr Blues Explosion, YEAH!!!! one of the undisputable big boys of indie rock, along with Pavement, Sebadoh and no one else. You were mentioned in the same breadth as Beck as a soul re-interpreter (by fans) or a modern-day minstrel act (by detractors), and not only were you listened to, you were culturally relevant (in a comparative literature kinda way). You were the hottest dude in rock & roll and yr wife Christina the hottest woman — the closest to a sex symbol couple we have ever had — and, along with Malkmus, represented straight-up alpha maleness in the scene, something that’s been pretty much vacant ever since.

Bands break and fall faster than Jenga pieces every day of every year ever, I know, but it doesn’t seem so much in indie rock. Not when there’s a sustained peak like what the Blues Explosion had: Extra Width in 1993 (almost 50k sold; for my money still their best record), the big breakthrough Orange in 1994 (130k sold), oddballs collection Mo Width in 1995 (a sentimental favorite) and Now I Got Worry in 1996 (almost 100k). Four albums (five, if you count the awful but still press-drenched Acme in 1998) that got them magazine covers, big tours (Lollapalooza, when it still mattered) and love from every corner. But then, out of nowhere, it would seem, they suddenly stopped mattering. At all.

Now why is that? I’ve come up with a few possibilities, each of them incomplete, but together, they amount to some sort of answer. First, the Blues Explosion were unapologetically masculine, macho, even. While indie rock is still unquestionably (white) male, such unabashed dick swinging has fallen far out of favor, especially in comparison to the mid-’90s, when David Yow’s Jesus Lizard were all the rage. The ’00s have been an age of Sufjans and Arcade Fires and Spoons, music that still has balls fersure, but is just a bit androgynous all the same. Listening back, the Blues Explosion feel hopelessly outdated in comparison (and in a weird way that, say, the Stones still don’t).

Theory #2: We got a little bit sick of the minstrel show. Though there is still a fine line between African-American and Caucasian art forms (hip-hop & rock, etc.), it has been blurred quite a bit since the ’90s. Sure, we can all point to the Judgment Night soundtrack as a pivotal point in the cross-pollination of hip-hop and rock (and a far more credible one than “Walk This Way”), that was way more of an aberration, a quick one-off rendezvous before everyone scurried back to their own self-imposed ghettos. The Blues Explosion always played punked-up “race music,” to use the term originally coined to described blues and R&B, and there was a novelty factor there that, while not always front and center, persisted.

Today, though, music has become more desegregated. Speaking very practically, we have iPods now, and so the National sit next to Nas on our scroll wheel, a philosophically unimportant point, but one that has made a difference in terms of how we classify music. Now all of this may be a bit wayward as the Blues Explosion were never a hip-hop act, but I guess I’m just trying to say that the race baiting part of their music — I don’t think it was necessarily intentional, but I do think it was there in some part — has much less of a thrill now.

Theory #3: This one also is a bit backwards, but bear with me. More than anything, I feel like Jon Spencer was known for his live show. People would compare him to James Brown, talk about the sweat he would fling off of his jet black hair with each leap, the amazing precision and energy that would emanate from Spencer, Judah Bauer and Russell Simins.

Normally, a good live show is the key to longevity. Ask every jam band ever. But here, I think that the novelty of JSBX wore off. There were only so many times you could see that show before becoming exhausted from it (for me it was four times). They were a band that, according to all of your friends, “you just have to see,” but what about after? Are you gonna pick up the records from the merch table? Probably. But what after that?

The irony of all of this is that the Blues Explosion’s albums still sound great. Listening the past few days, Now I Got Worry sounds way better than I remembered, and while Orange seems just a bit hokey, the rest is strong, too. But when was the last time you heard someone talk about them? When did you last listen to them? I’ve been polling my friends the past week — many of whom were huge fans — to see how they felt about the Blues Explosion these days, and every single one of them admitted that they haven’t thought about them in years.

Maybe it’s just proof that gimmicks never last. Looking at the band’s depressing official website, we see that their most recent update was from December 27, 2005. Here’s the text:

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

IT’S A CRAZY WORLD OUT THERE BUT WE HAVE THE POWER!!!

THE BLUES IS STILL NO. 1!!!

CAN YER HEART STAND IT???

IT’S BEEN A HELLUVA YEAR FOR BLUES EXPLOSION – FROM JAPAN TO AUSTRALIA, FROM CBGBS TO ISTANBUL… THE HISTORIC MANO-A-MANO BATTLE WITH THE HIVES THAT NEARLY TORE ENGLAND APART…

WOW!!! YES FRIENDS, WE’VE SEEN ‘EM COME AND WE’VE SEEN ‘EM GO, AND WE’RE STILL KEEPING THAT CRAZY BEAT, STILL SHAKIN’ THE RAFTERS AND THROWIN’ DOWN A MESS…

The more things change…

One final, fun little question for all of you: clearly there will be some contemporary bands who will suffer the same fate as the Blues Explosion. It happens to the best of them. Throw in the comments section your best guesses for who that might be.

Hit the Porter Wagoner/Grinderman/White Stripes show at Madison Square Garden last night. During Grinderman’s set the following occurred:

Nick Cave: This song is called “No Pussy Blues.”
Heckler: “Well, you’re UGLY — what ELSE would it be called?”

A little later, I turned around to check out the heckler, who was sitting right behind me. He was this bull-necked fratboy type in a backwards baseball hat and jam shorts; eight years ago, the guy would have been at a Limp Bizkit show. And moments after Grinderman finished, he exclaims to his buddies, “That was the worst shit I ever heard in my entire LIFE!” And then he starts laughing — hysterically. Once he manages to collect himself, he announces, “I’m embarrassed that I’m even here!”

I think Grinderman made a new fan last night — he just doesn’t realize it.