Intermission - The Alternates/”B” Team

In April of 1985, me and about 200 other ninth grade boys gathered on the fields between Sachem High School’s two campuses to try out for what would be two freshman baseball teams. Sachem, located in Lake Ronkonkoma in Long Island, was the biggest school district in New York at the time. Our high school was housed in two buildings, owing to the number of students that were enrolled in grades nine through twelve. After I graduated in 1988, I continued to run into people who graduated with me who I never encountered in my four years at those two campuses. So, when I showed up that overcast day in April 1985 and saw the masses who would be vying for 40 spots across two baseball teams, I shouldn’t have been surprised; I went to a big school, and everything, especially athletics, was competitive. I knew this was a long shot at best. For two days, the coaches conducted fielding drills, and we hit balls off a live pitcher, and off the pitching machine in the North building’s basement. We ran hills and laps around the football field, turned double plays and practiced hitting the cutoff man. During one of the hitting drills, I hit a line drive on the first pitch that had one of the coaches clapping, and then I fouled off seven straight pitches, to which he said, “Next.” While at second base during a fielding drill, I successfully backhanded two consecutive ground balls, then booted the next three. It went that way for two days; a couple of flashes of brilliance followed by mediocrity, and when there were 199 other choices available, there was no room to be just “pretty good.” The first cut list, which was massive in order to pare down the pool of candidates, was posted after day two of tryouts, and of course I was on it. There was one kid who started jumping up and down when he saw his name on the list, and then his friend had to explain to him that it was actually a bad thing to be on that list; another dream crushed. By Friday, there would be two teams of about twenty boys each, a Red team and a Gold team. Looking back, I wonder just how hard it was for the coaches to pick the 40 best players out of the 200 hopefuls who showed up. Was having a lot of choices a good thing, or did they kind of know once we were all on the field who would make it and who would not? The following year they’d have to cut those two Freshman teams of 40 in half, to choose the Junior Varsity team; would that be tougher? That summer I played in a local league, but it was a walk-on team, so there were no try-outs; I did fine, but getting cut from the school team stuck with me that summer. I’ve thought about that whole experience over the years, of being on a field with so many candidates, worrying if I would make the first cut, let alone make the team. I’ve also thought about being the one making the cuts, deciding who would move on and who wouldn’t. What I do for a living requires me to help make difficult decisions regarding whether people are hired for jobs or even interviewed for them. I’ve made thousands of telephone calls and sent thousands of emails letting people know they were not selected for the job they applied for, and I’ve never enjoyed it. It’s by far the worst part of the job, but I have to do it, just like those coaches had to do over thirty years ago when they had to make a cut list and send over a hundred boys home disappointed. It’s been said that no one remembers who came in second place, only the winners. Well, this week’s post is going to celebrate some of the tracks that did not make it onto the 50 At 50 playlist, all the great songs that came in second place; the Alternates list, or “B” Team, if you want to call it that. Yes, making a playlist of songs does not carry the same weight as losing out on a job you really wanted, or even not being chosen for a baseball team you wanted to play on…but it was difficult all the same. And since making the playlist was thrown down as a challenge, I took it very seriously.

You may remember back in March when I first started this crazy journey that I explained how it all came about. In short, my friend Nick challenged me to pick my favorite 50 songs, as my 50th birthday approached in 2020. He was inspired by longtime New York DJ, Larry the Duck, who picked his top 40 songs from his 40 years on the radio. When I decided this would be a weekly trip down my own personal memory lane, and that it would take over my life (ha-ha), I put a lot of thought into the songs and the stories behind them. When I narrowed it down to about 100 songs, I needed to devise a way to really start getting it down to 50, so I created the Alternates list, with the thought that once I took it off the 50 At 50 list and put it on the Alternates list, there was no going back. This made the decision final, much like the cut list back at Sachem High back in 1985. So, I made some very difficult decisions, especially when I had it down to about 75 songs; I knew once the song went on the “B” list, it was gone forever, so I had to be very thoughtful at that point. Finally, in August of 2020, right before my 50th birthday, the playlist was finished, with the last four cuts taking me almost two weeks to decide. Now, there were some no-brainers, songs I knew would be on here, and that I essentially started the playlist with: “Captain Fantastic”, “Barracuda”, “Even Flow”, and “Are You Gonna Go My Way”, to name a few that you’ve seen already. There are a few more of those to come. But some were much tougher, like “Desire” by U2, which I substituted for another of their amazing songs, “One.” We’ll talk specifically about that selection later. I’ve listened to the Alternates playlist dozens of times, and there’s some amazing stuff on there.

So, I promise I will not be writing about each of these songs; you’ll lose interest and I’ll end up doing this until my 60th birthday (there will NOT be a 60 At 60 Playlist, PS). Instead, I’ve decided to break it down like this:

- Honorable Mentions – some songs will merit a brief anecdote, just a quick thought.

- Runners-Up – there’s somewhat of a story and certainly a connection here; these were all tough to cut.

- The Heartbreakers – these are the last four songs I removed; these were so tough I wish this was a 54 At 50 Playlist, that’s how awesome and special they are.

I will also not be mentioning all 72 songs on the Alternates playlist. Again, that’s just way too much to consider. Just know there were several songs that were easy to put on the “B” Team and didn’t require a lot of thought and the ones mentioned in depth here were the toughest to eliminate. OK away we go…

Honorable Mentions

When I started this project and was just putting random songs on the playlist to get started, I began to realize the connections I had to a lot of them. As I mentioned, there were the no-brainers, the songs I had deep connections to, and that I built the 50 At 50 playlist around. But there were also several where the connection was fleeting, a moment in time that triggers a memory or a place, and there were still others that were simply guilty pleasures; songs I just listened to all the time because they were awesome. But in the end, despite how special they were, when I needed to remove songs to get down to 50, these were the ones that went first.  

There’s “Crazy”, by Ceelo Green and Danger Mouse, performing as Gnarls Barkley, which was playing in the car in 2007 when Christine and I were out visiting clients one day, before we were ever a couple and I decided I wanted to ask her out one day (I still waited months.) “Feel Good Inc.” by Gorillaz kept popping up on my iTunes in the “Recommended” section, so I finally clicked on it, and became obsessed with the whole album, grateful for whatever analytics made it suddenly appear. I had not listened to Green Day in years, much less heard an album like American Idiot in ages, when someone I was working with in 2005 said it was our generation’s Tommy, referring to The Who’s 1969 concept album, and he was right. Beginning with the title track, “American Idiot”, it’s a statement of that time, and as perfect a record as you’ll ever hear. In 1988, I would make not one, but two new friends who would make me appreciate Pink Floyd, and for weeks it felt like all I listened to was The Wall, Dark Side of the Moon, and Wish You Were Here, but it was “Comfortably Numb”, with its ethereal melody, dreamy lyrics, and amazing double guitar solos I kept returning to. In 1993, I heard “Sister Havana” by Chicago trio Urge Overkill for the first time, that like Lenny Kravitz’ “Are You Gonna Go My Way” was a bit of a departure from all the grunge that year, and to this day, my wife will ask me why I love this song so much, and I still don’t have an answer. I can remember in 1986, waking up to Paul Simon’s “The Boy in the Bubble”, the lead track from his album Graceland, on many a Saturday, an album I swear made my parents rediscover music and that they played again and again. When I first heard P.M. Dawn’s “Set Adrift on Memory Bliss” sometime in 1991, I thought Spandau Ballet had remixed their 1983 hit “True”, until I heard the soulful voice singing the stream-of-consciousness lyrics and it became a bright spot in a dark year for me. In 1994, alternative band Smashing Pumpkins released a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” as a B-side; I would not hear it until 2000, stunned I had missed it during the height of their fame. It’s my favorite cover song ever. The 1985 film The Breakfast Club remains a classic in the canon of 1980s John Hughes movies, and the soundtrack still resonates, most notably “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds. The song was offered to several artists before Simple Minds finally relented and recorded it, and no song reminds me more of being a teen-ager in the 1980s. Loss, disappointment, anxiety; 1991 had all of that and more, and when that year was capped by the death of my grandmother, “Tears in Heaven”, Eric Clapton’s beautiful tribute to the tragic loss of his five-year-old son Conor, became the song I poured my grief into. And finally, a heavy metal anthem: I first heard “The Hellion/Electric Eye” by UK metal band Judas Priest when I was in 7th grade, but it was lost on me back then. I would hear singer Rob Halford perform the song live as a solo artist in 2000, and again when he returned to Judas Priest in 2005 and I saw them perform at Jones Beach that summer. But it was after my prostate cancer surgery in 2019, and I put it as the opening song on a playlist I would listen to at the gym again and again during my recovery that it took on a different meaning. Its speed and power inspired me to get better, and to get back on my bicycle and keep doing the things I loved to do. And when Rob Halford himself announced in 2021 that he had also beat prostate cancer during the pandemic in 2020, the meaning of “Electric Eye” came full circle; he was also a survivor, and his music with Judas Priest became larger than it had ever been for me. Here they are performing the song in 2015, and they’ve never sounded better. Also inspiring: guitarist Glenn Tipton is playing while he’s battling Parkinson’s. I LOVE these guys!

Runners-Up

I’ll compare these tracks to an old pair of sneakers, or maybe a book you’ve read several times; you’re attached to it, but you’re not sure what to do with it, so you put it in box and hope you can decide what to do with it someday. It got to that point with most of these songs. There was certainly a story behind them, and in a couple of cases there were multiple songs from one artist I couldn’t decide on, so I trashed them all; sounds cruel, doesn’t it? Anyway, here they are, in alphabetical order:

“Hey Ya” by Outkast (2003)

There have been moments where I’ve heard or seen or read something and I’ve had a “What is this??” reaction, and “Hey Ya” is definitely one of them. In late 2003, I was having a drink at a neighborhood bar with my good friend Brian. I was consulting at the company Brian worked at, and he was explaining what I needed to do to be hired by this organization full-time, something I wanted badly. The place was crowded, and there was a DJ playing upbeat, happy-hour music, and we were having one of those bar conversations where you’re almost shouting at each other. So, here’s my friend, offering his time and advice to me, and I got completely distracted when “Hey Ya” began to play, and I had that “What is this??” moment. I got distracted to the point I interrupted Brian and asked him, “Do you know what song this is?” I think he ignored me, and I ended up apologizing and we continued our conversation, but I spent the next few days figuring out what song that was; this was before Shazam, kids. Obviously, I’ve adjusted my priorities since then, but I thought “Hey Ya” was so original and amazing that I couldn’t help myself in the moment. By the way, if you’re wondering, that company did hire me full-time, and Brian’s advice was helpful…thanks old friend!

“Midnight Mover” by Accept (1985)

From the time I attended my first concert in 1985, I learned one thing…you never skip the opening act. The reason is that you never know what you’re going to hear or what you’re going to discover. German metal band Accept is the band that made me adopt that mantra when they opened for Iron Maiden at my very first concert in May of 1985. That summer I listened to their album Metal Heart on repeat, and then I taped an episode of Headbanger’s Ball on MTV, and their video for “Midnight Mover” was featured. A song about a drug dealer, it’s their most commercial-sounding song, and the video was revolutionary for its time. Since that first concert, I have never skipped the opener. The first time I ever saw Primus, they opened for Rush in 1992; I would have never discovered an amazing band like Primus had I arrived late. And that’s just one example! Granted, there have been some clunkers over the years, but at least I can say I heard the opening band’s set and made an informed decision not to become a fan of that particular band. So, I’ll say it again…you never skip the opening act. And here’s the video for “Midnight Mover”; look away if you get dizzy!

“One” by U2 (1991)

This one was tough. I knew there would be a U2 song on the playlist, and I had four possibilities before I landed on “Desire”, which we’ve discussed. I know that “One” is a better song; in fact, the other two songs I considered are better than “Desire” (“Bad” and “Even Better Than the Real Thing”). However, swapping out “One” for “Desire” is the perfect example of how I decided on a lot of the songs I ended up choosing. “Desire” simply resonated with me more and captured a time that I still think about often. When I hear it now, it still makes me think of those early college days, and the long hours I spent working in the mall, and the lessons I learned working for Martin. But I do remember hearing “One” for the first time. U2’s Achtung Baby was released in late 1991, at a time I was hardly paying attention to music. My friend Rich who I worked with, and who had introduced me to a lot of alternative music had the album and told me I should come over to hang out, drink beers and listen to it; in his words, he was “tired of seeing me so down, and I should get my ass over to his house.” But instead of starting the album with the first track, he told me I needed to hear “One” first. Rich said with conviction that “One” was the best U2 song he had ever heard, and that it would end up becoming their best song. He made that statement before “One” was ever released as a single…and he was right. “One” is U2 at their best, and Achtung Baby is their finest album, by far. I don’t think there’s a U2 album that better captures the moment musically than Achtung Baby. And I would agree with Rich to this day, that “One” is probably the best U2 song ever.

“Rainbow in the Dark” by Dio (1983)

When I was in eighth grade in 1984, I bought a cassette called “Masters of Metal”, which featured songs by popular metal and hard rock artists of the day. It was put out by a company called K-Tel, which specialized in compilation records; think of them as the greatest of the greatest hits from a particular period. They mostly put out pop, rock, and disco records, so this was their first foray into the world of hard rock and metal, and some of the selections were questionable; I would hardly call KISS or Zebra metal, and Rush is most decidedly not metal. But I liked all the songs and since I couldn’t afford all the individual albums on my allowance, this would have to do. However, one of the artists included was most definitely metal, and that was Dio, the namesake band of singer Ronnie James Dio. Ronnie James Dio replaced Ozzy Osbourne in Black Sabbath and went on to form his own band in 1982 and is considered by many to the one of the best metal singers of all time. I had sort of heard of Dio but did not own any of his albums so the song on the compilation, “Rainbow in the Dark” was the first Dio song I became familiar with. And I loved it; the song is amazing. But I had seen Dio t-shirts all over school; they had this demon on the front, and it looked like he was presiding over a circle of Hell. Horrifying, but cool; I wondered at the time what my parents would do if I came home wearing one of those t-shirts. One day I was hanging out with my friends, and we went to this kid’s house I did not know. This was when parents worked and there was no one home after school and it was OK to be in an empty house unsupervised, so after we raided the fridge, we cranked up this kid’s boombox in his bedroom. He had posters of metal bands all over his walls and his room was a mess, with tapes and clothes everywhere, and hockey equipment in the corner. He must have seen me looking at the posters because he asked me if I was into metal. Well, like an idiot, I told him I had the “Masters of Metal” tape, and I rattled off some of the songs, thinking that instantly qualified me as a metal fan. He laughed hard, as I remember it, but he reached into an old shoebox, and tossed me a tape and said, “That guy is a master of metal; f***ing Dio is a master of metal!” He had thrown me Dio’s album Holy Diver, which contained “Rainbow in the Dark.” I thanked him, terrified to say anything else and wondering if this kid was going to put a heavy metal spell on me. But I listened when I got home and it was amazing, and I became a hardcore Dio fan that day. If you watch the show Stranger Things, the character Eddie wears a denim jacket with a Dio patch on the back, something I recall seeing a lot growing up on Long Island. By the way, I have no idea where that kid is today, but you can be sure I remembered to return his Dio tape promptly.

“Saturday in the Park” by Chicago (1972)

This may have been the first song I ever heard on a car radio; here’s what I remember: I’m probably four years old, and I’m with my Aunt Peggy and her boyfriend at the time, and I’m in the backseat of a blue Volkswagen bug, and they’re talking about getting pizza. And then I hear the lyrics, “Saturday in the park, I think it was the Fourth of July…”, and then something about a “man selling ice cream…” Where is this place? Let’s go there! I also remember the great piano and horn sections in this song. Every single time I hear it now, I remember that day in the blue Volkswagen bug.

“September” by Earth, Wind & Fire (1978)

Whether you’ve heard it at a wedding, at a bar or sang it at karaoke night, you know the song “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire. DJ’s like to play it to get you going in the morning and make you forget for four minutes that you’re stuck in traffic on your way to work. I’ve heard it hundreds of times, and it sounds great every time. But there is one time I heard it that I will never forget and think about every time I’ve heard it since. In July of 2017, the Classic East and West concerts took place at CitiField and Dodger Stadium. The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac headlined each day, with the Doobie Brothers and Steely Dan opening the first day, and Earth, Wind & Fire and Journey opening the second day. My wife and I and some friends went both days, and it might be the greatest concert experience of my life. On day two, Earth, Wind & Fire opened the show, and in the 80-degree heat, wearing gold glitter suits and with singer Philip Bailey still hitting the high notes, they put on one the best shows I’ve ever seen. They never stopped moving or smiling, and when they played “September”, 40,000 people were singing and dancing along. Besides the Eagles, EWF was the best act that weekend, and “September” was the highlight. Here’s our view from that day…..

“Staying Alive”/”How Deep is Your Love”/”Night Fever” by The Bee Gees (1977)

To say that the movie Saturday Night Fever and its soundtrack were popular back in 1977 would be a ridiculous understatement. Anchored by three #1 singles by the Bee Gees, the soundtrack album, and the movie itself, starring John Travolta, are the definitive cultural statements of the disco era. The album has sold over 40 million copies worldwide, won the Grammy for Album of the Year, and Travolta received an Oscar nomination for Best Actor. Saturday Night Fever was everywhere in 1977. My mother played the soundtrack album constantly that year; if it was a Saturday afternoon in 1977, you could almost guarantee Saturday Night Fever was on the turntable and my mom was dancing in the living room. But I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say that sometimes it was me that demanded the record be played. Although I would not see the movie until several years later, I was obsessed with the disco beats and Barry Gibb’s falsetto voice. Between the music being played constantly in our apartment and commercials on TV, I felt I had seen the movie anyway. And maybe that’s the most amazing thing about this iconic movie; I remember talking about it with my 2nd grade friends back then, about the music and how cool it was, but of course, none of us had seen the movie. It was rated R for a reason; numerous F-bombs, drug and alcohol use, racial slurs, fighting, and the way the way the Tony Manero character and his friends treat women in the movie is pretty heinous. Even when I finally saw the full R-rated version in my early teens, I was surprised at how raw it was. But the dancing sequences are awesome, and it did capture that time in Brooklyn and the disco era perfectly. I had all three of these Bee Gees songs on the 50 At 50 early on, figuring I could just narrow it down to one towards the end, and ultimately, I just wasn’t able to do it. It almost felt unfair to pick just one Bee Gees song from the album; it’s like they all belong together in some way. I’ve recently listened to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack again, and all these years later, those songs still hold up and capture that time perfectly. There’s no mistaking what era that music is from when you put that record on…and it will always remind me of my mom.  

“You May Be Right”/”Pressure”/”You’re My Home” by Billy Joel (1980/1982/1973)

There is a Billy Joel song on the 50 At 50, just not one of these songs. As a Long Islander and lifelong fan, Billy Joel has provided the soundtrack for many moments in my life, right up until his last studio release in 1993. I thought it would be hard to choose one song, but it turned out to be easier than I thought. At one point I had six Billy Joel songs on the playlist. The first couple of cuts were easy, but these three lingered for a while, so they went to the Alternates list. “You May Be Right”, the lead track from 1980’s Glass Houses, will always remind me of our first summer on Long Island, after we moved from Brooklyn. It seemed all our new neighbors had Glass Houses and we played it no matter whose house we decided to park at on any given day that summer. “You May Be Right” was my favorite song from the album and might be the first true rock song Billy Joel ever recorded. When The Nylon Curtain came out two years later in 1982, Billy Joel started making videos, and the video for “Pressure” was on MTV daily. But the moment I remember most about “Pressure” happened at a roller rink in Sayville on Sunrise Highway during my Christmas break that year. My dad had driven a bunch of my friends and I to go skating on a Saturday afternoon. I figured he would be dropping us off and coming back, but about an hour later one of the friends I was with said to me, “Hey isn’t that your dad sitting over there?” Sure enough, I looked over at the snack bar, and there he was, sitting at one of the plastic tables, his blueprints and file folders spread out in front of him. I skated over and asked him if everything was OK, and he said he decided to do some work here rather than do it at home and then stop and come back to pick us up. I remember very vividly that "Pressure” was playing in the background, and rather than be embarrassed by my dad treating the snack bar at a roller rink like it was his office, I thought it was totally cool. It was his way of spending time with me, and that was OK. In 2010, when Christine and I were planning our wedding, we went back and forth about choosing a first song to dance to. Not arguing, just offering opinions. One day she said that I should just pick all the music for the wedding, since she had other decisions to make. I knew I wanted “You’re My Home” to be our song right from the beginning, and that’s the song I chose for that day. No song could be truer about Christine. You may be asking, “Why, why, would you not include your wedding song on your playlist of the most important songs of your life??” And the answer is that it’s our song and our story. If it’s any consolation, “You’re My Home” was a close second to the Billy Joel song I chose for the 50 At 50. I’ll save the story of our amazing wedding on the farm for another time.

The Heartbreakers

OK, so these are the last four songs I cut off the playlist. Why am I mentioning these last four specifically, and not the last five or six, or ten? Because these were the hardest to take off, and because to me, they’re all amazing songs that I have listened to over and over again. I’ve owned them all on vinyl, CD or cassette, still listen to them now and include them on other playlists. Plus, according to my own rule, once I removed a song I couldn’t put it back, so I was very thoughtful and took my time taking these off. If this was a 54 At 50 playlist, these would be on it.

My brother Jamie was the one who encouraged me to listen to Faith No More’s 1992 album Angel Dust, which features the song “A Small Victory”. I was a fan of their 1989 album The Real Thing, but Jamie told me that Angel Dust was on a whole different level, and he was right. The album is amazing from beginning to end, but "A Small Victory” really stood out to me. I loved the groove and the siren-like sound of the guitar, and especially Mike Patton’s introspective lyrics about growing up with a coach for a father. It might be the best 90s album you’ve never heard of. Swedish rapper Neneh Cherry released her powerful rap single “Buffalo Stance” in 1988, but I would not hear it until late spring of 1989, riding around with my friend Don in his Jeep Wrangler. I was still in a hard rock phase heading into that summer, but when that song came on the radio, Don turned it up and I was hooked. I bought the single on a cassette, with versions of the song on both sides; when it got to the end the tape would simply reverse and play again. I played it so much that I literally wore it out and the cassette deck in my car spit the ribbon out while I was driving one day; a true rock star moment if there ever was one. “Buffalo Stance” is still one of my favorite songs ever, and still reminds me of that summer. Not having a Beastie Boys song on the 50 At 50 still doesn’t feel right to me, and when I cut “So What’cha Want” from their 1992 album Check Your Head, I almost shed a tear. “So What’cha Want” is by far my favorite Beastie Boys song, but the connection to their music for me is more universal; I just couldn’t pick one song. They are one of the most revolutionary and influential bands of any genre in my lifetime, and each one of their albums is an individual statement. If you haven’t listened to them in a while, just pick an album and give it a listen. Finally…it was only a few days before the self-imposed deadline of my 50th birthday when I cut “Superstition” by Stevie Wonder. I can’t remember a time when I was growing up in Brooklyn when I did not hear this song. Whether it was on the radio, on TV show Soul Train, or Stevie Wonder himself performing it on Sesame Street, “Superstition” has had a tremendous impact on me. My mom was, and still is, a huge Stevie Wonder fan, and hearing his music all the time was a big influence on the early music I listened to. It’s probably why I liked the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack so much, and why I gravitated to Elton John’s piano-based blues and R&B style so early on. Not having “Superstition” on the playlist feels almost like a loss to me because I love the song so much, but its broader influence prevented a more specific story about it…however, that doesn’t mean I won’t write about “Superstition” somewhere down the road, in a different context. For now, here’s Stevie Wonder performing “Superstition” live, with a full band, on Sesame Street; you can see the kids clapping in the background. And no, unfortunately, I was not there! Enjoy! 😊

 Thanks again for stopping by and for reading! That was a lot to unpack…are any of your favorites on the “B” team? Mention them in the Comments section! Sign up for email updates to get weekly posts delivered to your inbox and if you’re enjoying the posts, please feel free to share the links with your friends… thank you! 😊

Next time, we’re back to the playlist; in fact, we’re headed back to Seattle to revisit a singer we’ve talked about already, and a topic most people avoid.

P.S.

 No additional thoughts for now, so here’s the Alternates Playlist on Spotify; all the songs mentioned above plus some others I cut on the way to 50. Happy listening! 😊

See you next time…

JS

9/19/2022