Oh My Radioness

Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Oh My Rockness radio. First my work computer got weird and angry when I tried to upload my iTunes library, then my iPod cord disappeared, and then I got sick of Pandora’s crazy taste-math. (How does one song by the Editors plus the complete works of Cat Power equal Mr. Bungle? What are you trying to tell me about myself, Pandora?)

Oh My Rockness appears to add one new song every day, which means the playlist moves at a pretty slow pace. As such, I’ve become particularly attached to the middle of the current mix. The best parts:

Oneida. Up with People. It's twitchy, dancey, anthemic. If they played this in clubs, I would feel less awkward when using “club” as a verb.

The iOs. Neveright. “I never write you love songs, I never write you love songs, I never write you love songs, I never write you love songs”—not a bad chorus for a super-cute love song. This has been playing in my head constantly for the past two weeks. It’s been a good two weeks.

Mixel Pixel. Coming Up Xs. Great songs with the word “radio” in them: All Night Radio’s “All Night Radio.” R.E.M.’s “Radio Free Europe.” Queen’s “Radio Ga Ga.” TV on the Radio is great. “Video Killed the Radio Star” was the first music video ever. And now these guys mention “radio” all over their chorus—which I heard on the radio. Coincidence? I think not.

Blood Feathers. Hide All the Eggs. Oh My Rockness has a quote comparing them to the Byrds. Given a) the band name and b)the title of the song, is it terribly geeky of me to find this comic? In any case, dig those thundering piano chords at the end.

Arms. Shitty Little Disco. So shimmery! So chimey! And it’s by Todd Goldstein, who I know from college. When not being Arms, Todd is also the guitarist from the Harlem Shakes, who’ve recently received a bit of a drubbing in these pages. I can’t comment, having never heard that band (though I do agree that the McCarren Park Pool scene is somewhat depressing). All I know is that my friend Rebecca once directed Todd in a musical—during which he totally stole the show, being a big ham—and she can do the Harlem Shake like no other 4’11” Jewish girl out there. Not sure if that justifies the band name, though.

Adam Green. Novotel. I don’t like silliness in music unless it’s done in a really beautiful way. Straight-up sea shanties by the Decembrists don’t do much for me; sea-shanty-inspired Decembrists songs that sound like outtakes from In The Aeroplane Over the Sea totally break my heart. As such, I’m conflicted about this little number. I kind of wish he’d take the damn rose out from between his teeth, but his voice is amazing.

Better than all of this combined, of course, was John Roderick’s banter at Wednesday night’s 826 benefit. As pointed out by the New York Sun, JR “likened the massive Beacon Theater stage to performing on Agamemnon's barge.” I don’t think any rock star has ever made better banter-use of the word “barge.”