October 2026 (playlist)

A new collection of sounds from the previous month, intentionally listened to or otherwise. Recommendations, radio songs, deep dives and Italian soundtracks (more on that later). Enjoy! 

Dave Marsh (1950-2026)

Among the first generation of rock critics, Dave Marsh is the one who fits the stereotype of the "boomer rock critic." The only other figures, in my opinion, who would be in the conversation for the ultimate version of the stereotype would be Greil Marcus, Robert Christgau, and Lester Bangs. Marcus doesn't quite fit the bill since he's more academic (positive) and more than willing to argue that not all of the best music was released in the sixties and seventies (obviously, Marsh doesn't do that either but I'm speaking in broad generalities as well as from my own perspective as a reader and lover of music). Christgau has his own particular methodology and taste that, while mirroring Marsh in many ways (the adherence to evaluative scales, the short, quippy, well-written summation of an album), also is, again, more ecumenical in its taste than Marsh. Lester Bangs could have been the paradigmatic boomer rock critic if we based his oeuvre solely on Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung and the fact that the Human League was on his turntable when he took his own life. But, the Bangs presented in the second volume of his criticism Mainlines, Blood Feasts and Bad Taste was a critic who could speak eloquently on any number of topics, including a real time discussion of Miles Davis' mid-70s period. 

Yet, Dave Marsh shaped my taste in music more than any of those critics combined simply for what he decided to publish as a rock critic: Dave Marsh likes lists. In fact, he published a book called The Great Big Book of Rock Lists. The two Marsh books that had the greatest impact on my taste in music were The Heart of Rock and Soul: the 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made and The Rolling Stone Record Guide (which he edited). The former is one man's attempt in a post album rock world to praise the humble 45 single. As he writes in the updated, second edition of the book, responding to various questions including why "Heard It Through the Grapevine" was at number one: 

"'I Heard It Through the Grapevine' isn't the greatest record ever made, anyway, and for a simple reason (one that I thought more people would have figured out from the onset): there isn't any greatest record of all time. If we took the kind of music discussed in this book as seriously as it deserves to be taken--as seriously as it was taken by many of the people who made it and a lot of the people who first listened to it, whether they'd admit it or not--we wouldn't even wonder about such a thing."  

He then goes on to describe how no one walking through a museum would argue that a single painting could be called "the greatest," because that person would turn the corner and encounter, potentially, an even greater painting. I don't quite agree with that analogy, and I certainly think that if we raised his argument with regard to long playing albums, no one who calls Revolver the greatest album of all time (such as myself) isn't going to suggest that ranking Blonde On Blonde at number four or whatever suggests I don't take both albums seriously. 

Yet, the subtext of this quote is that rock and roll and soul and disco and any other popular music made primarily by young people from various minority groups is not taken seriously enough to be appreciated for itself with each individual single. And, as I wrote in my essay about 1964, I agree with this basic premise. So, if you want an incredible, well written history of the single and the great songs contained within that medium, The Heart of Rock and Soul is a great book. The highest compliment I can give a book from my younger days is that it's a great book to read in the bathroom. 

The Rolling Stone Record Guide, another great bathroom book, demonstrates the pitfalls of taking such a retrograde view of rock and soul's entwined histories. About the great British punk group X-Ray Spex: "Presumably the abandonment of pop form, soulless vocals and arrhythmic beat make an important aesthetic/political comment about modern nihilism and dehumanization...or something. No one listens to this stuff for amusement." As someone who listens to stuff like X-Ray Spex for amusement, it's clear that Marsh is defensive regarding whatever is considered "pretentious" or simply "bait" for rock critics.

To be fair, Marsh didn't particularly go in for boomer nostalgia: he hated the Grateful Dead (as did many of his generation did) and only truly seemed to love rock and soul from the 1950s and early 60s (as my parents did) or music that echoes the music from that time (Springsteen and Springsteen related artists). That tends to make a critic seems dated as the listener tumbles into the future with hopes that they can still feel something in newer music. Reading Marsh's books, more than any other critic from his generation, is like looking at a younger version of myself first figuring out what was good to get into and what was bullshit. I appreciated guides like Marsh, not because we ended up having much taste in common, but because he was a good writer who could easily explain why you should listen to certain things, and more often than not he wasn't wrong. 

September 2026 (playlist)

It's my birthday today. In celebration of the day I'm dropping my September 2026 playlist. Still mourning Dolly. Checking out the new CAN live record (more CAN over on my other blog https://circlewiththeholeinthemiddle.blogspot.com this month). Listening based on music podcasts. Listening based on going alphabetically through my records. Listening based on catalog deep dives for Haruomi Hosono and 21st century Neil Young. Detours into Czech psychedelia on streaming. And some new records that arrived in the mail. Always be listening. 

"Desolation Row"

Bob Dylan, 50th Anniversary Collection (Legacy/Columbia 2015)

"When Kafka read aloud to his friends from the first chapter of the Trial, he began laughing so hard that he 'could not continue reading at times,' and listeners were also laughing 'uncontrollably.' This is 'astonishing,' [Max] Brod [Kafka's friend a literary executor] wrote, 'in light of the terrible gravity of this chapter. But that is how it was.'" (Reiner Stach, Kafka: The Decisive Years 477).  

I don't know what Bob Dylan thinks of the lyrics to "Desolation Row." I have no idea if he thinks the song is funny or frightening or just another song on a contractually obligated album in 1965. The "limited edition" mp3 copyright dump bonus upon purchasing the then $500 version of The Bootleg Series Vol. 12: The Cutting Edge offers a few live versions of the song from 1965. In the two complete versions featured in the collection, the listener can hear the audience laugh. This is especially true at the notorious Forrest Hills show, where the audience repeatedly booed and eventually stormed the stage. That, however, took place during the "electric" set; "Desolation Row" was played during the much more warmly received acoustic set. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9Mp_1ZDjqI

It's a bit jarring to hear the Forrest Hills audience titter after the first line of the song, "They're selling postcards of the hanging," followed by an ever increasing round of laughs with each successive lyric in the song. "The beauty parlor's filled with sailors/the circus is in town" seems to elicit the biggest laugh. 

The first part of the song evokes an actual historical event which took place in Duluth, Minnesota in 1920. In June of that year The John Robinson circus came to town and with it three black laborers who were eventually accused of rape. While being held in the local jail overnight, three of the accused men were kidnapped from the jail and lynched by a white mob of 1,000-10,000 citizens. 

Though there does not appear to be any post-cards produced of the Duluth lynchings, lynching postcards were a common phenomenon in the 19th and early 20th centuries, so, though a seemingly jarring combination of language (why would anyone want photographic evidence of a hanging to collect or send?) is confirmed by the historical record. 

In 1912 the German sociologist and travel writer Arthur Holitscher published his book Amerika Heute und Morgen. https://archive.org/details/amerikaheute00holirich/page/366/mode/2up which Kafka himself had read. On page 367 Holitscher reproduces a photograph of a lynching with the bitter caption "Idyll in Oklahoma." A few pages later he reproduces a painting showing a group of white men holding up the dead body of an African American man. Underneath Holitscher writes "thousands of copies of these postcards were printed and sent." All of this would inspire Kafka to write about a possible salvation for his re-named character "Negro" (Karl Rossmann) within the "Nature Theater of Oklahoma" chapter of Amerika (The Man Who Disappears). 

"The only sound that's left/ after the ambulances go/ is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row" Audience laughs and claps. Are they laughing at the ambulances? Cinderella finding herself as a character in this nightmare scenario? Strong applause for Einstein playing the electric violin. The cyanide hole doesn't get the big laugh you might expect. Truth be told, as the song goes on the audience laughs less. Perhaps they've figured out that Dylan hasn't really written a funny song. Or he's written a song full of foolish characters and impossible situations wherein the more you laugh, the more deadly that laugh becomes. 

Autumn (playlist)

Spent the last couple of weeks getting my oldest ready for a year studying in Germany and getting my middle child ready to move into student housing 45 miles away. The middle child challenged me to make an Autumn playlist since they had made one. So here it is. Playlist of songs that remind me of autumn, of changes and new beginnings. More soon....

August 2026 (Playlist)

Hello! Things have been quiet around here in August but the music never stops. This playlist ends with a three song tribute to the late, great Dolly Parton. Safe travels, angel. 

July 2026 (playlist)

Here's my playlist of what I've been listening to this month. Nursing an illness so I don't really have much to say about it. Enjoy!