Bauhaus, “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”
Frightened Rabbit, “Head Rolls Off”
Cramps, “I Was a Teenage Werewolf”
Austin TV, “Shiva”
Parliament, “Dr. Funkenstein”
Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”
Tom Waits, “Cemetery Polka”
Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, “I Put a Spell On You”
Sun Ra, “Space is the Place”
Dream Syndicate, “Halloween”
Philly Joe Jones, “Blues for Dracula”

Bauhaus: “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”

Dear Bauhaus,

Please be advised that Bela Lugosi has now been dead for 53 years. Time to move on with your lives.

Sincerely,
Stuck Between Stations.

Frightened Rabbit: “Head Rolls Off”

Like the proper Scotsmen they are, Frightened Rabbit charms schoolchildren everywhere with this cheeky ode to decapitation.

Cramps: “I Was a Teenage Werewolf”

RIP Lux Interior, who lost his exterior this year. This one’s from the aptly titled Songs the Lord Taught Us, although the teacher may have been the other guy, the one with the horns. That is, Alex Chilton.

Austin TV: “Shiva”

From the video description, which may have lost something in translation from Spanish: Mario Lupo and his xoloscuincle dog, Kerdoc “accidentally fell in a hidden magic forest which at the end results in the Devil´s cave.” Haven’t we all had that dream?

Parliament: “Dr. Funkenstein”

If you’re George Clinton, every day has been Halloween for the last 68 years.

Rolling Stones: “Sympathy for the Devil”

A children’s craft website thanks Tyrone for this fun idea for a Keith Richards Halloween costume: “Take brown hair (wig or your own if you have brown hair), rub balloon on head till hair stands up on top and if you want to tie wide cloth ribbon around your head. Next blot lots of makeup on face so it creases. Complete with an open button down dress skirt, straight leg jeans and a toy guitar.”

Tom Waits: “Cemetery Polka”

You always have to turn to Tom Waits for touching, sentimental family drama: “Uncle Phil can’t live without his pills/He has emphysema and he’s almost blind/And we must find out where the money is/Get it now before he loses his mind.”

Screamin’ Jay Hawkins: “I Put a Spell On You”

Listen to Creedence’s version if you want true grit, or Nina Simone’s version if you want erotic mystery. But nothing beats the man himself for sheer theater, and a great excuse to put on a cape.

Sun Ra, “Space is the Place”

Don’t believe those “birthers” who try to claim Sun Ra really wasn’t from Saturn. He was the real deal.

Dream Syndicate: “Halloween”

Urban myth debunked: Steve Wynn, the singer/songwriter who ran the Velvet Underground-obsessed Dream Syndicate, is not also the billionaire hotel magnate who once put his elbow through a priceless Picasso he was about to sell. That would be the other Steve Wynn.

Philly Joe Jones: “Blues for Dracula”

Hard bop may not have been the scariest genre in music history, but Philly Joe was one of its best drummers (see the unrelated clip below). On the title track of the 1958 Blues for Dracula, you can hear him mugging like the Count before getting down to business with Nat Adderly and Johnny Griffin.

If that’s the case, the companies must now be furious, since his list has now inspired a slough of counter-lists and rejoinders. A rival music publication, Snoozer, published its own list, largely to chide Kawasaki for assigning his number-one ranking to Happy End’s early seventies chamber-folk classic, Kazemachi Roman. Yet another site features contemporary Japanese bands, offering the latest on the likes of Parabellum Bullet, 54-71, and Avengers in Sci-Fi, not to mention band-name-of-the-year-nominee Wagdog Futuristic Unity.

Before I get completely lost in translation, I’ll take a short scavenger hunt through five decades of J-rock. Wander for yourself and find your own happy end.

The Jacks, “Jacks No Sekai”

Happy End, “Kaze Wo Atsumete”

The Plastics, “Top Secret Man”

Boredoms, “Super Go”

Cornelius, “Count Five or Six”

Parabellum Bullet, “Wanderland”

Roy Orbison, “Love Hurts”

Otis Redding, “Try a Little Tenderness”

Etta James, “I’d Rather Go Blind”

Joy Division, “Love Will Tear Us Apart”

Bon Iver, “Skinny Love”

George Jones, “He Stopped Loving Her Today”

Fairport Convention, “Who Knows Where the Time Goes”

Antony and the Johnsons, “Fistful of Love”

Zoe Krylova’s picks

PJ Harvey: rare steak and a baked potato
Patti Smith: hot chicken curry
Devendra Banhart: venison stew and a chimay
Vetiver: salad of mixed greens and wildflowers, elderberry wine
Bjork: dim sum
Joni Mitchell: assorted crackers and exotic cheeses
Neil Young: ribs
Classical Indian music: samosas and chai
Sun Ra: dark chocolate and smoothies
Reggae: jerk chicken & fresh lemonade

P.J. Harvey, “When Under Ether”

Sun Ra, “Pink Elephants”

Scot Hacker’s Picks

Elizabeth Cotten: For doing Fahey before there was Fahey, for being a chick doing the real gospel blues, for doing sweet folk without getting all Joan Baez on our asses, for making me float. Listen here. Note: The video above doesn’t do Cotten justice – definitely check out the Smithsonian collection of her works for the full effect. Recommended eating: Goat curry with IPA.

Music of Indonesia, Vol. 20: Indonesian Guitars: For reminding that none of us have heard the end of what the guitar is or does, or how it sounds. There’s always more pineapple to suck the juice out of, one more finger to lick. For reminding that the delta between Daniel Johnston, Japanese koto, and Bill Harkelroad converges on the Indian Ocean. Listen here. Recommended eating: Chicken satay and limeade.

Elizabeth Cotten, “Freight Train”

Roger Moore’s picks

Nick Lowe, “Let’s Eat”: bangers and mash, Boddington’s Pub Ale
Fats Waller: “All That Meat and No Potatoes”: cassoulet, Chateauneuf-de-Pape
Nina Simone, “I Need a Little Sugar in My Bowl”: creme brulee, armagnac
Lee Perry, “Roast Fish and Cornbread”: escoveitch fish, Jamaican cornbread, Red Stripe
Ramones: “Everytime I Eat Vegetables it Makes Me Think of You”: Nathan’s hot dog, root beer
Amadou and Miriam, “Senegal Fast Food”: thebouidienne (fish stew), hibiscus juice
Hank Williams, “Jambalaya”: jambalaya, crawfish pie, file gumbo, Everclear
John Lennon, “Cold Turkey”: turkey sandwiches, black coffee, aspirin
Roches, “The Troubles”: strawberry-apricot pie, milk
eX-Girl, “The Tofu Song”: kobe beef, cold sake
Cafe Tacuba, “Raratonga”: cochinita pibil, Dos Equis Amber
Howlin’ Wolf, “300 Pounds of Joy”: barbecue, lemonade
Wilco, “Pot Kettle Black”: Chicago deep-dish pizza, Goose Island Ale
Billie Holiday, “All of Me”: fava beans, a nice chianti

Amadou and Miriam, “Senegal Fast Food”

eX-Girl, “The Tofu Song”

Nick Lowe, “Let’s Eat”

Christian Crumlish’s picks

Van Morrison: steak and kidney pie
Pavement: corn dogs
Emmylou Harris: hush puppies
Mike Watt: truck stop empanadas
Tom Waits: possum

Pavement, “Gold Soundz”

Mike Watt, “Big Train”

Benoit Baald’s pick

Guns n’ Roses: pu-thay [Editor's note: we think this is an Asian dish, but Baald is unavailable for comment]

Dan Haig’s pick

Recommended listening: The stuff that’s somehow still coming out of my fingers.

Recommended eating: I find it very hard to eat and play at the same time. Sort of like walking and chewing gum, only much harder.

This can’t be the musical change America needs. I love my country too, but “Only in America” reminds me of the speech a generation ago in which the elder mayor Daley of Chicago pontificated that “together we will rise to ever higher and higher platitudes.” The song choice was especially puzzling because Obama, with the possible exception of Ralph Nader’s 2008 running mate Matt Gonzalez, has the most interesting musical taste of any candidate for the Oval Office in recent memory. Stevie Wonder was in the house, and stadium-worthy Obama fans ranging from Wilco and Kanye to Springsteen and U2 couldn’t have been more than a phone call away. If they were all unavailable, couldn’t Obama simply have put his iPod on shuffle?

I suppose you could view the commandeering of “Only in America” as a defiant gesture aiming straight for the hearts and ears of red state line-dancers and wearers of enormous hats. But I still think the song is too weak to work, especially now that John McCain has thrown down the gauntlet by selecting Alaskan yodeler Jewel Kilcher as his running mate (or was it Lisa Loeb?). Can we attempt to lay out a campaign playlist suitable for a year of change? As Bob the Builder would say, “yes we can.”

Lee Dorsey, “Yes We Can”

The Pointer Sisters added an extra “can” to the title for their hit version of the Allen Toussaint-penned New Orleans funk classic, but I prefer Lee Dorsey’s earthier 1970 version. As storm waters head toward the Crescent City yet again, it’s a good time to emphasize the need to back up the song’s optimism with real resources and hard work.

Merle Haggard, “If We Make it Through December”

Where some see struggles between red and blue to control the United States map, I simply see a struggle for the soul of Merle Haggard. Most famous for decades-old hippie-tweaking fare, Haggard is also an underdog troubadour whose ear for the poetry of the working man sometimes rivals Guthrie and Springsteen. I was surprised to discover buried alongside the ABBA ditties on John McCain’s all-time Top Ten was Hag’s bleak seventies weeper “December.” The laid-off father in the song has a bank account in the red and a serious case of the blues.

Neil Young, “Campaigner”

The ultimate crossover anthem: “Even Richard Nixon has got soul.”

Parliament, “Chocolate City”

As George Clinton says here, “they still call it the White House, but that’s a temporary condition, too. 
Can you dig it, CC?” This one might not have been used because Obama had already given two nights to the Clintons.

Kanye West, “Touch the Sky”

You have to love that one of Obama’s all-time Top Ten songs, according to Blender, graces the video in which Kanye West does an Evel Kneivel impersonation, with Pamela Anderson as his sidekick. Never underestimate the power of the Evel Kneivel vote. Isn’t Nevada a swing state?

Aretha Franklin, “Think”

As George Clinton used to say, “think, it ain’t illegal yet.”

Tom Waits, “Step Right Up”

Sure, you could gripe that “Step Right Up” is too cynical and arch to stand up as a campaign theme. On the other hand, talk about a candidate of change: “Change your shorts, change your life, change into a nine-year old Hindu boy, get rid of your wife.” And then there’s his empathy for the downtrodden: “Heartbreak of psoriasis? Christ, you don’t know the meaning of heartbreak.”

Ted Leo, “The Sons of Cain”

Having questioned the “land of fungible convictions” in his 2003 foreign policy opus “Ballad of the Sin Eater,” Ted Leo brings it all back home on this one, which previews the No American Left Behind Act of 2009.

Uncle Tupelo, “No Depression”

It’s the economy, stupid. But it’s also our collective memory.

The National, “Fake Empire”

This is not a bumper sticker song, but it would make a great one: “We’re half-awake in a fake empire.”

Sam Cooke, “A Change is Gonna Come”

Self-explanatory and timeless.

Blowing away any remaining generational snobbery, I randomly discovered a recipe for Monterey Jack muffins on an intermittently updated music blog called Half a Person, whose sixteen year-old author, Nina, says she “likes music and long walks on the beach.” Nina’s accompanying “Muffin Mix” seemed uncannily close to home:

Stay Positive- The Hold Steady
Two Halves- My Morning Jacket
You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb- Spoon
The Sons of Cain- Ted Leo
Eraser- No Age
Sequestered in Memphis- The Hold Steady
Alex Chilton- The Replacements
I’m Amazed- My Morning Jacket
Constructive Summer- The Hold Steady
Sheila Take a Bow- The Smiths
A Little Bit of Feel Good- Jamie Lidell

This is how close I live to the Muffin Mix: Swap Bon Iver and Tinariwen for No Age and Jamie Lidell, and you would come very close to my own heavy rotation for the same week. Nor is Nina a guitar-rock one trick pony; her latest post displays precocious taste in rap both new (Nas, Lupe Fiasco, Lil’ Wayne) and prehistoric (De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest). And I doubt I’ll read a better review of Mamma Mia than the following from Nina: “I now have every ABBA song simultaneously stuck in my head. It was charming at first, but now I’m just feeling suicidal.” Nina’s hall-of-fame post thus far, however, is intriguingly titled “Sorry I Accosted You”, where she summons her teenage fortitude to defend Radiohead’s honor (details after the click-through).

Smiths, “Half a Person”

Replacements, “Alex Chilton”

When Nina and her friend were in line to buy summer books at Barnes and Noble, an unsuspecting couple were poised to buy a copy of The Best of Radiohead, which Nina correctly identifies as “EMI’s plan of revenge after Radiohead left their label to give away In Rainbows.” In prose worthy of a sober Lester Bangs, Nina recounts the following:

“Oh, Radiohead!” said the man, picking up a copy.
“They’re great,” replied his girlfriend tracing her finger down the back
track listing.

I fretted. “These people can’t purchase this sham of an album! Radiohead wouldn’t want that!” I thought. So, I did what any partially insane teen would do.

“You can’t buy that!” I said abruptly.

The couple stared at me blankly. I stared back. “Um. EMI, Radiohead’s old label, released it without permission. Radiohead, uh, doesn’t want people to buy it,” I stammered. The couple stared at me blankly.

“Um.Ok,” said the male with a forced chuckle, placing the album back on the rack. “Why is this nervous girl with braces yelling at me about Radiohead?” he was probably thinking. My friend Victoria looked at me with an amused smile. I turned around and walked away. Mission accomplished.

My apologies for accosting you, friendly couple. But you really shouldn’t buy the album.”

Nina’s little vignette actually gives me hope for the future, because it’s a story only a real fan could tell and it’s free of the cool distance that too often accompanies music writing. I’ve also been there before. As a partially insane teen, I came close to accosting someone at Chicago’s Wax Trax records who was on the verge of buying Squeeze, an album by a Lou Reed-less version of the “Velvet Underground” fronted by bassist Doug Yule. In retrospect, Squeeze wasn’t terrible, and it’s not as if cranky old Lou Reed needed the money; it’s just that something viscerally bothered me about allowing that record to be purchased on false pretenses. I cared enough about what the Velvets had done for me that I didn’t mind looking like a nutcase trying to defend their honor.

Years from now, when Nina is old enough to be me, I hope she stays positive, finds new and adventurous ways to mix her muffins, and never lets her enthusiasm molder. If I’m still around, I’ll still be listening.

Radiohead, “House of Cards”

Moldy Peaches, “Anyone Else But You”

Hold Steady, “Constructive Summer”

Craig Finn searches for reasons to believe in the Church of St. Strummer, while Mouldy guitars recall Hüsker Dü’s “Celebrated Summer” and mighty mighty Boss-tones echo Springsteen’s early days as a little hoodrat. Prayer theme: the “annual reminder that we can be something bigger.”

Dick Dale and the Del-Tones, “Misirlou”

The former Richard Monsour does his Lebanese father proud. Call it surf-rock if you want, but I prefer to think of it as oud-inspired heavy metal.

Tinariwen, “Cler Achel”

While journalists love the storied biography of these Touraeg rebels from Mali, it’s the music that continues to fascinate. The explosive “Cler Achel” leads off 2007’s Aman Iman (Water is Life), which ranks among my favorite albums of the Zeroes.

Magic Sam, “Magic Sam Boogie”

Whether you come from Chicago or Timbuktu, the extra hours of daylight are perfect for a little West Side soul.

Blitzen Trapper, “Wild Mountain Nation”

Only in Portland will you find a modern urban pastoral jam. But unlike Phish or the Dead, they know how to jam econo.

Marty Robbins, “El Paso”

The ultimate gunfighter ballad has everything I could want in a summer song: lonesome travelers, love, sex, murder, and hot hot heat. Cutting to the chase: “My love is stronger than my fear of death.”

Vampire Weekend, “Mansard Roof”

Haters, get over yourselves. It’s inauthentic, it’s insubstantial, and I couldn’t care less. Put on those docksiders and dance your Shins off.

The Kinks, “Sunny Afternoon”

Ray Davies soaks up the sun in a summer anthem made for recession years: ‘Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze.”

Eddie Cochrane, “Summertime Blues”

My first civics lesson: “I called up my Congressman and he said quote/ I’d like to help you son but you’re too young to vote.” Honorable mention: Flying Lizards, The Who.

Graham Parker and the Rumour, “Heat Treatment”

Even before he contracted mercury poisoning, Graham Parker’s idea of a summer love song was to channel Van Morrison and croon about cannibalism and indigestion. Tag line: “Let’s get out while the getting’s good.”

Martha and the Vandellas, “Heat Wave”

This isn’t summer music for poolside lounging. It’s summer music for opening up the fire hydrants and dancing in the streets.

Ramones, “Rockaway Beach”

The late Joey Ramone was a medical miracle. Unlike his only West Coast peer, Brian Wilson, he could spend endless summers on the beach without the slightest hint of tanning.

Love, “Bummer in the Summer”

Back in the day, before we had Cee-Lo or Prince or even Sly, Arthur Lee let his freak flag fly higher than anyone’s.

Stevie Wonder, “Master Blaster (Jammin’)”

At the tail end of an astonishing run of classic soul sides, before he turned himself into a Rose Bowl float, Stevie delivered the goods on this timeless Marley tribute. Sadly, the line about peace in Zimbabwe may need a bit of revision.

Replacements, “Can’t Hardly Wait”

Paul Westerberg turns impatience into an art form. “I’ll write you a letter tomorrow, tonight I can’t hold a pen.”

Billie Holiday, “Summertime”

I can’t claim to have heard all 2600 versions of this Gershwin standard, but this is my favorite so far. How it got in the hands of the nutcases who made this video will remain a mystery.

As a fan of absurdly overconceived projects, I’m glad to see Brooklyn-based Stevens providing a soundtrack to one of his borough’s least-loved eyesores. The traffic-clogged BQE is a soul-numbing, neighborhood-dividing monument to master planner Robert Moses’ unchecked ego. But since it exposes the tension that comes with having a sense of place, it seems like an ideal subject for Stevens. Maybe his take on Moses will even surpass Alex Timbers’ surreal play “Boozy,” which portrayed Moses’ arch-nemesis—urban gadfly and community activist Jane Jacobs, a hero of mine—as a femme fatale time traveler who stalks Moses with an angry gang of rolling pin-wielding housewives.

Sufjan Stevens’ mannered chamber-folk divides the indie world into Sufists who hail his genius, and anti-Sufists who want to slap him silly. He’s too clever by half and could use an editor, as on The Avalanche. But I’d challenge the haters to write a song as moving as “Casimir Pulaski Day” or a rocker as fierce as “In the Words of the Governor,” Stevens’ Polvo-meets-White Stripes barnburner featured in The Believer’s summer 2007 CD compilation. The preview snippet of “BQE” below doesn’t suggest Stevens is the new Steve Reich, but I’ll give the piece a chance. Did I mention that “BQE” has hula-hoopers?

After the click-through, I’ll provide music for some equally soul-numbing missteps in urban planning. If you have your own stretch of paradise that’s been paved for a parking lot, tell us about it, and give us some music to get through the madness.

Sufjan Stevens, “In the Words of the Governor”:

Sufjan Stevens, “BQE, Part 6″:

Here’s my list:

• Cabrini-Green, Chicago

Swiss architect Le Corbusier got nowhere with his 1925 Plan Voisin for Paris, which would have replaced the Marais district with the sorts of anonymous towers Jacques Tati later spoofed his absurdist masterpiece, Playtime. But stateside, his disciples tried an approach just as depersonalized in the name of slum clearance and “urban renewal.” The prison-like towers and frightening “open spaces” in Chicago’s Cabrini-Green came to symbolize all that was wrong with a generation of ill-conceived public housing. Most of the towers have since been demolished and replaced.

Theme Song: Kanye West, “Jesus Walks”: “I walk through the valley of the Chi where death is/ Top floor the view alone will leave you breathless.”

• The Streetcar Suicides, Nationwide

At a time when few Americans drove, GM President Alfred Sloan remarked that “if we can eliminate the rail alternatives, we will create a new market for our cars.” By 1946, a mysterious holding company, National City Lines–run by GM with a little help from its friends at Standard Oil, Phillips Petroleum, Firestone, and Mack Truck–controlled streetcar operations in dozens of American cities from New York to Los Angeles. They had an interesting business model for the streetcar operations: dismantle them. If that sounds like a cartoon, it’s because it later became one; the plot of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? is loosely modeled on this national disgrace.

Theme Song: Pretenders, “My City Was Gone”: “There were no train stations/ There was no downtown.” Yes, this is the song that unintentionally made Rush Limbaugh an animal rights activist. You’ll have to excuse the Norwegian video.

• Embarcadero Freeway, San Francisco

It shouldn’t take a natural disaster to achieve good urban planning, but that’s what happened with San Francisco’s Embarcadero Freeway. In the car-obsessed 1950s, plans were laid to build a drab double-decker freeway darkening the views of one of the world’s most stunning urban skylines. After years of discussion about whether, and how, to remove the hated freeway, the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake did the job in about 15 seconds. Traffic congestion decreased, and an attractive promenade now graces the waterfront.

Theme Song: Jesse Fuller, “San Francisco Bay Blues”: Don’t miss the kazoo solo.

• The Big Dig, Boston

The Red Sox have avenged the Bambino twice, the Patriots seem unstoppable, New England is beautiful in the fall, and Mission of Burma is back and better than ever. What could Boston possibly have to complain about? Maybe one thing: the Big Dig. Conceived as an earnest attempt to replace the antiquated Central Artery and provide airport access, the tunneling project took years longer and billions of dollars more than anticipated. More recently, the project has faced chronic leaks and collapsing roof sections caused, in part, by a contractor’s concealed use of defective concrete.

Theme Song: Talking Heads, “Don’t Worry About the Government”: “Some civil servants are just like my loved ones.”

• Diablo Canyon, San Luis Obispo County, California

The sleepy Central Coast of California is home to the charming medium-sized college town of San Luis Obispo, and nearby, scenic beaches that support a thriving surf culture and vendors of kites, taffy and driftwood sculptures. The area also sits on several earthquake fault lines, including the San Andreas fault. I know what you are thinking: what a wonderful location for a nuclear power plant!

Theme Song: Postal Service, “We Will Become Silhouettes”: “The news reports recommend that we stay indoors.”

• Long Beach Freeway, Southern California

What will $1.5 billion buy in Southern California these days? In the case of the proposed Long Beach freeway extension, it would almost buy a road that would destroy hundreds of homes and businesses, displace thousands of people, cut through six historic districts, and probably worsen air quality. And you’d still sit in traffic during rush hour.

Theme Song: Guy Clark, “LA Freeway”: “If I can just get off of this LA Freeway/ Without getting killed or caught.”

• Newhall Ranch, Northern Los Angeles County

With its chronic fires, mudslides, and scarce and risky water sources accompanying its parade of malls and subdivisions, it’s obvious what Southern California needs the least: another Orange County north of Los Angeles. Yet Newhall Ranch would place a master-planned mega-community on the banks of the environmentally challenged Santa Clara River, with more sprawl to follow. Urban critic Mike Davis has noted that the project’s advertising evokes nostalgia of Southern California’s pre-World War II communities, even though Newhall would remove the “last authentic landscape” in that tradition “in order to build its suburban simulation.”

Theme Song: Kinks, “Shangri-La”: “You need not worry, you need not care/ You can’t go anywhere.”

Alternate theme song: Modest Mouse, “Novocaine Stain“: “More housing developments go up/ Named after the things they replace/ So welcome to Minnow Brook/ And welcome to Shady Space.”

Roger Moore’s Picks

Soggy Paneer

There are days when the hurt just won’t go away, when thrashing your way through the loudest punk anthem still won’t pull you from your own useless puddle of anger and fear. These are the days that you want, and perhaps need, the lovingly processed cheese that is Vijaya Anand’s late 80s electro-raga mishmash, “Neeve Nanna (Only You Were Mine).” The song is a highlight of Dance Raja Dance: Asia Classics, Vol. 1, the oddly enduring 1992 Luaka Bop compilation of “musical director” Anand’s South Indian film music.

To experience “Neeve Nanna” in its full glory, watch the video below from Anand’s film Dance Raja Dance, which features breakdancers channeling their inner Michael Jackson and cavorting in the worst man-blouses this side of Jerry Seinfeld’s infamous puffy shirt. To comprehend the cultural wires crossed here, it helps to know that Anand posed for the CD sleeve wearing a Miami Vice t-shirt, and that the song’s actual singer, the legendary Sripathi Panditaradhyula Balasubrahmanyam, appears to have two chins and about a hundred pounds on the guy in the video. If this one doesn’t put a smile on your face, consult your doctor and pharmacist immediately.

Vijaya Anand, “Neeve Nanna”

It’s Raining Nerds

This year’s reigning homemade You Tube conversation piece, Tay Zonday’s “Chocolate Rain” has continued the grand tradition of Hank Ballard’s 1954 blues “Work With Me, Annie” and UTFO’s 1984 rap “Roxanne, Roxanne” by spawning a whole cottage industry of covers and parodies, including a rather smarmy version by John Mayer. Zonday’s improbably booming voice gets compared to both James Earl Jones and God (Old Testament version), and his trademark twitches deserve their own cartoon. But his rambling ditty gets closer to confronting everyday racism than anything mainstream soul has produced this year. And none of the video parodies can touch Zonday’s Nerd Hall of Fame original, which makes you think Jaleel White’s TV character Urkel has grown up, gone to graduate school, and composed a musical rebuttal to Hernstein and Murray’s dubious 1994 book on race, class and IQ, The Bell Curve.

Tay Zonday, “Chocolate Rain”

Dignified and Old

We were thrilled to learn that distinguished music writer Richard Gehr plugged Stuck Between Stations in his fine “Music for Grownups” column on the website of the AARP. While this has temporarily made us feel even older than we actually are, we’re viewing this as an opportunity. In an effort to reach out to our new demographic, here’s the Zimmers’ age-appropriate video version of the Who’s “My Generation,” featuring a nonagenarian lead singer, a chorus with a reputed combined age over 3000 years, and a new spin on DA Pennebaker’s poster concept for Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” video. It doesn’t matter that a BBC documentarian assembled the Zimmers as a novelty act; that doesn’t make them any less “real” than the Sex Pistols, or any less angry.

The Zimmers, “My Generation”

Scot Hacker’s picks

Hooked on Hasselhoff

My dusty collection of 1970s K-Tel and Ronco records includes among its sea of awesome singles not one, not two, but three copies of B.J. Thomas’ 1969 masterwork Hooked on a Feeling – a song that rang out in every summer school ceramics and leather working class I took as a kid throughout the 70s.

The classic jeremiad was bravely re-made in 1997 by the inimitable Knight Rider / Baywatch star David Hasselhoff, gleaming white teeth floating in a cardboard cutout sundown over classic 1980s bluescreen, Alaskan wilderness below him, angels all around, catching wild salmon between his teeth, riding a motorcycle (helmet-less, since he’s a bad-ass) through golden meadows, pogo-ing with African tribesmen in a joyous ritual dance, flying free with the seagulls in what I take to be a paean to the parody of Jonathan Livingston Seagull that I for some reason read repeatedly at 13, Jonathan Segal Chicken (this was around the time of Kentucky Fried Movie, remember). It’s clear that what Hasselhoff is really hooked on is himself. How Hasselhoff decided it would be a good idea to integrate a dancing bear in the “Ouga shocka ouga ouga ouga ouga shocka” intro from Johnny Preston’s even earlier “Running Bear” is anyone’s guess.

David Hasselhoff, “Hooked on a Feeling

It’s tempting to draw parallels between Hasselhoff and William Shatner — both has-beens mock their own stature as cultural icons. Rather than fade out and become irrelevant, both have decided that campy self-mockery is a more certain route to immortality in the public imagination. But Shatner has done the pomo self-promo thing with more taste and humor. Is this vid the last we’ll hear from Hasselhoff?

Star Wars on Ice… Without the Ice

We don’t know exactly which beauty pageant this comes from, but Stacy Hedger’s performance of the theme song from Star Wars takes musical self-flaggelation to whole new levels. As if her tarted up ice-rink getup and her poorly rehearsed cheerleader dance routine aren’t bad enough, Hedger starts off in the wrong key… and stays there.

Stacy Hedger, “Star Wars Theme”

You gotta feel for Stacy. She thought she knew that nothing could be worse than revealing your gaffe – to change key in mid-stream would have been to admit her initial chromatic mistake. So she chose to stick with the wrong key throughout the song. But it gets weirder – after the ‘droid dance break mid-way through, Hedger could have come back in on the right key, but she doesn’t — which changes the game. Could it be that Stacy actually had practiced the song this way? That these are the only notes she knew, and that switching it up wasn’t an option? Is she actually playing it here as rehearsed?

The clincher comes at the end, when the audience breaks into thunderous… silence. Not a single smattering of applause. Apparently they were completely shell-shocked from the consciousness-shattering performance – but unlike you, they had the privilege of witnessing this moment of supreme badness live.

The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins

William Shatner didn’t have a stranglehold on self-satire — Leonard Nimoy was every bit as willing to indulge, and taped this stunning homage to the outsider Hobbit with a gaggle of adoring Tolkein/Rodden fanboys and girls sometime in the late 60s.

Somewhere, there’s a line between sincerity and 4th-level irony; but Shatner doesn’t know how to find it. Drawing a parallel between Hobbit and Vulcan strap-on ears was a gesture of fantasy brilliance.

Leonard Nimoy, “The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins”

We’ve barely scratched the surface of the vast landscape of bad music videos. Got a particularly distressing one to share? Let us know, and we’ll wrap them up in Vol. 2.

Superficially, the slightly haughty Snyder could come off a bit like the Mr. Jones of Bob Dylan’s “Ballad of a Thin Man” (“something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is”). But Snyder didn’t patronize the performers, wasn’t afraid to call them on their own contradictions, and got some unlikely subjects to stand and deliver. Many of the highlights (although conspicuously, not the Clash and U2) are included in Shout Factory’s recent DVD release The Tomorrow Show: Punk and New Wave, which captures appearances by the Jam, Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, and the Ramones, among others. In the rest of this post, I’ll share a few memorable Tomorrow Show moments. (Also discussed below: the hidden connection between Martha Stewart and the Plasmatics.)

• Joe Strummer, Superfreak

Despite a bit of coaxing, Tom Snyder wasn’t able to get the members of the Clash to say much about their take on current events, and the soft-spoken Strummer couldn’t even get his colleagues to be nice to teddy bears. But the muscular funk of “This is Radio Clash” spoke volumes in the early months of the Reagan Administration, and sounds just as fresh now.

• John Lydon, Company Man

Capturing the former Sex Pistols frontman in a thoroughly rotten mood, Snyder played straight man while the inimitably grouchy Lydon showed why he was one of the great comedians of the late twentieth century, and Keith Levene sat nearby attempting to have a clue. Public Image Ltd., Lydon told Snyder, wasn’t a band but a “company,” available for videos, film soundtracks, and occasional performances. What, no weddings or bar mitzvahs?

• Wendy O. Williams, Martha Stewart’s Evil Twin

Snyder interviewed both Martha Stewart and the late Wendy O. Williams of the Plasmatics, and I think he had big crushes on both of them. While those two weren’t exactly from the same country club, both were attractive and outspoken, skirted the boundaries of the law, and saved their greatest passion for craft projects. I personally disliked the Plasmatics’ music, but Williams held her own as an interview subject, and her craft projects on Snyder’s show—which included demolition of a TV and a Dodge—were as perfectly executed as anything Martha has attempted. And that’s a good thing.

• Iggy Pop, Arty Pugilist

When a haggard, bloody-lipped, gap-toothed Iggy Pop came to the interview chair looking like he had just gone fifteen rounds in the ring with Leon Spinks, Snyder had the good sense to hold back and let him get his bearings for more than four minutes. Then Iggy started riffing on the distinctions between Dionysian and Apollonian art, and tossing off a prodigious list of musical inspirations (Sun Ra, Cab Calloway, Fats Waller and Howlin’ Wolf).

• Bono, Actual Mortal

Years before Bono’s honorary knighthood and Nobel nomination, when “debt relief” still meant paying down credit card bills after a road trip, U2 was a group of gangly upstarts with something to prove. This Tomorrow Show clip of U2 performing its debut single, “I Will Follow,” shows why U2 was Ireland’s most promising rock band since Stiff Little Fingers. It also provides rare proof that beneath Bono’s shades are actual eyes, and beneath Edge’s ski cap is an actual head.