Why Haley Reinhart's "Free" Exists...

No -- I'm certainly not advertising that Haley Reinhart's debut single "Free," should replace the ubiquitous pleasures of Carly Rae Jespen's brilliant "Call Me Maybe" as this years first summer jam (no need for me to expound about that song here) -- but it deserves plenty of merit as a breezy counter to the urban strings and bubblegum splash of Carly. I'm a American Idol apologist. Just look through reams of past posts and you'll see my quick odes to past contestants. This year was a struggle for the show and I'm tempted to never watch again (Jessica Sanchez wuz robbed), but last year, even though froggy Scott McCreary won due to the Red State vote, was full of outstanding performances. Ms. Reinhart came in third-place. She was portrayed as the bitchy villain, the one who really had all of the talent but was snubbed for her confidence (mistakenly perceived as attitude). Now, a full year later, she emerges with that same talent and some very astute handlers in her corner. "Free" is extremely hard to place. Above we see the stunning Reinhart vamping as vintage pin-up, lounging in the beach, and soaking in the sun. But "Free" is more set-piece, a bit Broadway, a bit Nelly Furtado, pure pop pomp with a twinkling piano adding faux-hokum as if she's inches from being the next Adele or Duffy (whatever happened to?). It's dramatic and mindless at the same time, as if she can hang with Kelly Clarkson and Arcade Fire at the same after-party. I'm not entirely convinced that Reinhart will succeed, as this is just as much an anomaly as one can find on the pop charts, but it definitely has potential and fits perfectly on that mixtape you're dying to make before the first road trip of the season. Poolside for miles. 

Poolside with Roxy Music (and all of Avalon)

Ended the summer with this. Now it's Indian Summer, and instead of my usual descent into death metal obsessions, I've moved more towards autumnal sophito-pop. Elegant '80s excess (carved in svelte pop songs). Here's to ending the Poolside season with an end of the summer record, an album that plays when it can, poolside at the Country Club pool (thinkin' bout Ivy League, maybe Oxford/Oxfam) and the overhang has about 40% change, causing huge Oak leaves to litter the water. I'm sure if you want this feeling, a John Hughes film (seasonally 16 Candles or Breakfast Club works best) or maybe seeing any prep-school pulp (Never Let Me Go?) will satiate. Bryan Ferry, little did I ever noticed, perpetually this nostalgic aura post-Roxy-weird.

How did I not know about Avalon? I know "More Than This," but always thought it an '80s fluke, a la Godley and Creme's (of 10cc) "Why" -- somewhere among the Roxy Music biography I stopped reading. Perhaps, following ENO (even if I know better/worse). It's never occurred to me that Bryan Ferry was the direct inspiration of the "new romantic" and Avalon was his sincere mock of the whole lot. Avalon may even surpass ABC's Look of Love, except it's glaringly less pompous, not a speck of glitter in sight. Ferry commands it all with a superhuman cool, aware those that still followed him, Andy McKay/Phil Manzanera, survived thanks to telekinesis. There is a strand of this romanticism, sophisto-pop that may or may not be defined by Avalon. A colleague of mine tends to be the foremost scholar on the subject. Read it. Learn. "Oblivious." Jeez.

But on Avalon the horns aren't fake, Mckay implants a smoky/sultry sax in only the necessary folds. Ferry's synths are supreme, second only to his confident-yet-resigned, dramatic-yet-indifferent, croon. His voice invented Martin Fry, invented Spandau Ballet. "Gold" ? Love it. But it's Bryan Ferry turned up to 11. Correct?

Avalon's secret weapon is Manzanera's exquisite guitar playing. His co-writing credit on "Take a Chance With Me" is comparable to the candy-radio-pop of the era and big bright anthems of the decade before from ELO and Fleetwood Mac. When he's called on for airy, watered-in, or flimsy floss work, he performs in the same light as Ferry, like pro, like he invented the guitars that skitter "Perfect Way" and Go West.

I'm now on a search. Thank god Alfred Soto can school you on Roxy. This is some required listening. If you like saxaphones?

Poolside is closed until Spring. Look for Friday Jams.

Poolside with Jane Wiedlin's "Rush Hour"

The verdict's still out on whether or not Jane Wiedlin abandoned the Go-Gos to fuel her own raging ego, or if she was simply maligned by the rest of the band for writing all of their good songs. Needless to say, she got the raw end of the deal in the end -- breaking out in 1985 with her first failed solo record, and then not arriving to the Top Forty until 1988's Fur, only to be eclipsed by rival Belinda Carlisle's chart dominance throughout the '80s. It's hard to fault Carlisle though, as she was the complete package -- the looks, the sultry voice, the elegant mystique-pop of "Circle in the Sand." Still, looking back, it's hard not to root for Wiedlin as the underdog. Especially considering she might have the best song of the two. After her first single, the much underrated "Inside a Dream" tanked, she co-wrote "Rush Hour" with Peter Rafelson, he of Madonna's brilliant "Open Your Heart" (a Poolside HOF moment). In the vid you'll see the petit and pixie-ish Wiedlin cavorting with dolphins, swimming poolside, swaying a guitar twice her size with a grin that's either cunningly evil (suffering in faux-happiness as a second fiddle) or perfectly innocent (oblivious to her career's downward spiral). By 1988 this strain of bubbly, chiming, sunshine pop was beginning to wane on the charts. So to call "Rush Hour" a Top Ten fluke is apt, as it likely only appeared there for a week or two before bowing out to her nemesis. Back to back with "I Get Weak," in the summer of '88, I likely preferred Carlisle's pomp and balladry to Wiedlin's chirpy mall-beat. But back then, I doubt I even made the connection between the two and just enjoyed their interchangeable ephemeral gloss with equal aplomb. That said. I'd kill for a copy of this 45.

2010 Double River Rainbow Mix

I promised you a new mix and here it is. I've been thinking heavily about the chill and the relax and how not living within close proximity to beach culture really limits the Midwest's propensity for vibes akin to these sine-wave-curving upstarts. We be drawn to water no matter where we live -- just like the open road, the wanderlust of the river is usually overpowering this time of year. Head off and eventually you'll find the sea. So this mix -- even more of a nostalgia trip than before -- is synthetic in its attempt to re-live the sunset on the surf, and absolutely real in its mission of being poolside, or knee-deep in the creek. Or the Great Miami. Like the exhaling little brother to the last mix. Enjoy. (For those who still haven't picked up the Maxi Single Summer Mix, it is now located HERE. Right Click Link to Save.)

2010 Double River Rainbow Mix (Right Click to Save)

1. Ollie and Jerry – “There’s No Stopping Us”
2. Aaliyah – “Back and Forth”
3. My Mine – “Hypnotic Tango”
4. Goodwill Falcon – “Gameboy Camera”
5. Scarlett and Black – “You Don’t Know”
6. The-Dream – “Yamaha”
7. Emeralds – “Double Helix”
8. Sipho Mabuse – “Burn Out”
9. Double – “Captain of Her Heart (Extended Mix)”
10. Keep Shelley in Athens – “Fokionos Negri Street”
11. Twin Sister – “Lady Daydream”
12. Spectral Display – “It Takes a Muscle to Fall in Love”
13. Oriol – “JAM”

(A World of Wumme Production, 2010)

Poolside with Menudo

Yes. With Menudo. I know what you're saying. It's not possible that anything by this Puerto Rican franchise worth salvaging and for the most part you would be right (I took the trip down their YouTube rabbit hole to investigate/get proof). But for one measly single, over the course of their decade-long, switcheroo, plastic pop, (Latin) world-dominance, they broke through to America. I think it was Nick Rocks and not MTV that played "Hold Me" incessantly. It's puerile and sickly sweet, but there's something about the synths and ugh-beats coalescing that does it for me. Plus they went towards the English language for this track (and Ricky Martin makes an appearance in this configuration), even when they didn't need the English speaking world to fly in their personal jet. I don't really remember this Poolside -- it wasn't even a radio success, just a blip, a joke, an anecdote that most of us Northerners could care less about, but whoever wrote this song knew the definition of pop hit.

Poolside with New Edition (HOF)

If you read here enough, you'd know that New Edition are Hall of Famers in the Poolside annals. They shaped a ton of my childhood -- and for a brief time, the only person I wanted to be was Bobby Brown. I have no preference for pre or post New Edition, as lately I've been just as much in love with the Johnny Gill-led, Jam & Lewis produced Heart Break as I am with Candy Girl -- in fact I'm starting to lean towards the latter. It's pretty epic from beginning to end. "If It Isn't Love" -- could just be the greatest song of the late '80s when it's all said and done.

Little did I know about "Once in a Lifetime Groove" though. Released in 1986 as the group's second Bobby-less single, the first being the cover of "Earth Angel" for all of you purists and part of the (now cult classic and Micheal McDonald dominated) soundtrack to the Billy Crystal/Gregory Hines driven vehicle, Running Scared. Remember? The movie that used "Sweet Freedom" prominently.

"Once in a Lifetime Groove" was of course a departure from the band's sugary sweet and completely immediate radio pop of yore. Not that the synths don't still trill and whirl with the same neon and bubblegum, here it's maturing, "grooving" if you will. A group effort that would become a precursor to the excellent, darker, steelier mix provided on their following album. I don't remember one note from this song in my youth, so I'm retroactively placing it into my past history. It did not crack the pop charts, but was a staple on the coasts and a "chill" diversion in the clubs I hear. Speaking of "chill" -- don't you think this is a direct influence on the chillwave posturers? Slow it down, melt it up, and you've got a Washed Out track.

Poolside with Peter Godwin

"Cult" usually translates to "not all that popular, but eventually dug" for most artists deigned with the tag. I think for Peter Godwin, after stints playing among the late '70s glam-disco of Metro and early '80s proto-electro of Public Zone, it was the name, whence gone solo, that did him in (really? that's all he could come up with?). It certainly wasn't his debut single "Images of Heaven," which as you can see here was a pioneering piece of Poolside pleasuredom. This has the perfectly musty scent of a New Romantic timepiece, with loads of dark verve and echo -- his voice a slightly, only slightly, misanthropic downer (with hope). But here it's the synths that go off the charts, as they never get too chirpy, gimmicky, or lite, instead it's pure Blade Runner/Autobahn/Neon, "the future is in factories" vibe. This would have fit nicely on any Hughes' soundtrack, 'specially in scenes wherein Molly Ringwald's heart is ripped from its casing under pale moonlight. Or when the hero gets his girl. You decide. Regardless, this is classic Poolside fodder. My first mix is coming soon, so put in your requests for the ultimate Endless Summer jam.

Poolside with Sky Ferreira's "One"

Constantly documenting the emerging teen pop stars of today frequently reminds me of Wooderson’s timeless quote from Dazed and Confused – “I get older, they stay the same age.” Not that Sky Ferreira’s 17-year-old perspective scares me for the future of our youth, quite the contrary. When a single as ebullient and catchy as “One” finally dominates and wins one for team, I actually feel some hope for the next generation as I wither away, secretly obsessing over a pop song so laced in ephemeral euphoria, I’m amazed when it stays in the playlist past June. But it is June. The official beginning of W.O.W.’s Endless Summer and it’s high time I give y’all a perfect mix to soundtrack your barbecues and late-night reefer cruises through city streets.

Judging how many times I’ve listened to “One” since discovering it 48 hours ago, there’s really no better way to start the Poolside Class of 2010. The past few months I was hoping English tart, Ellie Goulding, would have raided American shores by now, but to no avail. I even suggested to her in November (if she was reading), that she should be aping Kate Bush if she wants to get ahead on the trends likely to make the rounds for pop singers of her ilk in this young decade. Can’t understand why she hasn’t caught on? Maybe the accent, the movement, the stateliness, is a bit to sharp for teens in the States?

Sky, on the other hand, has hooked up with a producer here (Bloodshy and Avant) who seem to know exactly what they’re doing with the artist – even injecting the first twenty seconds of “One” with what sounds exactly like the twilight of Bush’s “Running Up That Hill.” Of course, American audiences couldn’t get with the esoteric kings-und-queens lace in Bush’s songwriting, so “One” quickly moves to a hyphy-electro track which takes cues from both Cut Copy and any number of chillwave aesthetes who don’t possibly have this range of equipment to produce themselves saliency in the mainstream. Big budget pop stars will prevail, as long as they do it right. This song has everything built in for Sky – the faux-DJ-glitchy repetition in her verses, the rapidly ascending neon synths, and the skittered beat rubik’s-cubing beneath it all. Then there’s the image. They already got her covering Stevie Nicks, looking heroin-chic yet plastered as if a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper exploded on her face. She’s got the style of a ‘70s air-conditioned, crystal-worshipping, expensive-coke-snorting diva and the innocence of watermelon-flavored Hubba Bubba.

Kids, this is POP at its absolute apex. We've come a long way from Debbie Gibson. Ke$ha be warned, your days are numbered.

Poolside with Bryan Adams

I know what you're saying. What does a pasty Canadian "rebel" know about chilling by the Troy Municipal, in nothing more than OP swimshorts? No running. There has always been something humbling about Bryan Adams -- is there really anything you dislike pre-Prince of Theives? -- "Run to You" ? "Cuts Like a Knife" ? Even "Summer of '69" had a Boss/Petty-lite that appealed to those of us 7 year olds who were into the most sugary of pop music. "This Time," the third single from the Cuts Like a Knife album, must've debuted in late August of 1983, right before school started up, right as the Endless Summer was finding a twilight. Nostalgia plays cruel tricks. Thinking I'll rock this from a cassette copy, on the Troy Levee, 'round dusk, in late August, 2010. I vow to make this a summer full of poolside.

R.I.P. Chilly B of Newcleus

Newcleus' "Jam On It" is the origin of my Poolside series. That's because this song was literally wherein I became obsessed with rap. I'm old school if you don't know it. Remembering cousins Sean and Michelle bumping this from a mini-boombox by their backyard pool, and me, dancin' and wonderin' how I could inject more of this into my life. This is sad, especially since I think this is one of those bands that never got their due -- mixing Clinton's fantastical sci-fi Mothership with the burgeoning electro-funk/rap scene.

More via Boing Boing

Poolside with Washed Out

This might be the last Poolside for a long while. At least until I get the itch in March. This is actually more than Poolside, it's a chance to announce what I think is the single of the year -- Washed Out's hypnotic "Feel it All Around." That's hypnotic, no hypnagogic (and who knows what the fuck that entails). I've likely listened to this at least once a day since it was released. Goodness. It's inspiring, melodic, soothing, contemplative, nostalgic -- everything I want in a Poolside jam. This is a fan made video. Though I've never had the experience of scuba, and I didn't get close to a beach the entire summer, this is beautifully fitting.

FEEL IT ALL AROUND from Northern Lights on Vimeo.

Poolside with Dan Hartman/ Yah Mo

While all this talk about the “sunny” / “shimmering” summer musiques seemingly pouring out of all cisterns of the world, these writers are forgetting to mention what it is truly rooted in – something Simon Reynolds dubbed post-pop or massive statements made by the New Romantics or club jams turned upside-down, put to nap, and stuffed with feathers. I’m loving the bulk of it – if a bit derivative over the course of a full-length (I’m looking at you jj) – and just wish these groups would succumb to careers filled with 12” singles, chalk up six of ‘em, and be done. But we’re also forgetting another element of Poolside bliss – a genre of ‘80s pop. If John Hughes soundtracks can dominate one end of the spectrum, then the other side must be inhabited by what? Huey Lewis/Kenny Loggins ultra-slick, over-processed, faux-blue-eyed-soul-cum-e-street-bombast? When digging through the Poolside crates this summer I stumbled upon a mixtape made in the late ‘90s I dubbed the “My Two Dads Mix,” including such mellow hits as Grateful Dead’s “Touch of Grey,” Moody Blue’s “Your Wildest Dreams,” and two particularly ubiquitous songs from the ‘80s that most of us seem to have shoved back into our subconscious. Namely Michael McDonald’s “Sweet Freedom” and Dan Hartman’s “I Can Dream About You.” Both songs seem to ooze with station wagon vacation n’ beachside plastic euphoria – the eternal muzak of flip-flops and capri-suns, and/or sandy floormats and coppertone. This was certainly pop, just made by old white men for Billy Crystal/Gregory Hines fueled vehicles and lobster lunches in sweltering July. Surprisingly these, regardless of their fluff factor, sit well next to Madonna and MJ or any danceable UK import that was burning up the charts. Where are the British in this beach/romantic revival?





Bonus -- How about a little Rod Stewart (Beach Version)

Summer Jamz '09 - Poolside Bounce

It's that time of year again. Time when all of us former Stylus writers get super-geeky and assemble our Summer Jamz mixtapes. I was lucky enough to be coupled with John Cunningham, who, like me, shares a warm fuzzy love for '80s synth-pop. I think our back and forth meshed well. He suggested some Lisa Lisa for the stew -- so I knew we were one in the same. But alas, no Lisa (you can always add your own "I Wonder if I Take You Home" for good measure) though I think we still kinda killed it.

You can find our Poolside Bounce mix here. Jeff Weiss has been kind enough to host all of our various Summer Jamz on his always excellent Passion of the Weiss site. Believe it.

Poolside with Arkarna

Poolside is soon to become a reality as Summer is right around the corner, so I thought it necessary to pull out the go-to poolside pop in my arsenal. In 1996 I stubmled upon Arkarna waking up late night to the International video channel that I don't think exists anymore. Arkarna never became the worldwide success their producers/handlers thought they might become -- a techno-infused version of Hanson for tweens? You can likely find this in any $3 bin the globe over. It's worth it for the pop essence of the chorus to "So Little Time." I've long annoyed anyone who's ridden shotgun with me in seasonal sun, as for some reason this song hits a nerve every time. Perfection. I've also long threatened to cover this once my long-gestating solo career takes off. For now, enjoy. Try your best to put images of Mary Kate and Ashley aside (they covered this for a series theme song) and take pleasure in this at face value.

Poolside with Max Tundra (and Scritti Politti)

One of the surprises of SXSW that I failed to mention was my chance encounter with Max Tundra. It was Thursday night at the Music Gym, sandwitched between Columbus' Sandwitch and Columbus' Unholy Two, both crammed into the small 'club' area that resembled Popeye's apartment. Tundra was playing in the cut, out on the patio. Now I wasn't extremely psyched about seeing him, but by then I was a late-night weeble wobble and the crack-whores who were pouring drinks (they had to be crack-whores) would give you a plastic cup full of whisky for like five dollars. I guess crack-whores have good measurement when it comes to a hard-liqour "drink." Back to Tundra -- lots of people have sworn by him, even though he's made only one record in the last 5 years, but that one album has a gaggle of die-hard fans apparently.

His new album, Parralax Error Beheads You, brought him over the pond for some promotion. It must have been an easy trip, as a musician, for all he requires is his mini-korg synth-set and a handful of pedals and midi-switches. What he did in the course of 30 minutes was nothing less than a pop symphony. Akin to everything from Off the Wall disco-funk to the hyper-electronic hooked-on-classics vintage of Disney's Electric Light Parade (find it), but all very proper. His English accented anecdotes and banter could have been a diversion, but for some odd reason his cheeky demeanor was an adornment. The juxtapose between such slippery, hyperactive, beats and melodies and the somewhat fey professor vibe he was giving off worked a crowd that wasn't exactly sure if to dance or think. The guy's grown up in glitch and gabber, a British Kid 606 have you, but now I seem to think that what he does is closer to the new romantics and even closer to the shiny post-pop Trevor Horn would approve of.

Poolside? Because "Which Song" really reminds me of my all-time favorite Poolside -- Scritti Politti's "Perfect Way." Can't find a video for that one, so "Absolute" will have to do. It's a two for one today.

Poolside with Favela on Blast

Yeah Yeah Yeah. All I seem to do is hype up Diplo. This week it's appropriate -- not only will he be debuting his Major Lazer dancehall duo with Switch, but he'll be impresario/chaperone for next-big-Maya, Rye Rye, .....AND premiering Favela on Blast (in North America) at the film festival. I've been wanting to see this ever since I heard over a year ago he was doing this. In October it screened for the first time in Rio, so I was hoping to score a bootleg on the street during my recent visit to the city (with no luck). Funny, down there no one had even heard of such a thing, but they knew of three or four parties a night that they could sneak me into stealth. My greatest moment of the trip occured when we were getting gas between two particularly bumping favelas -- I've still yet to go to one, but being in the middle sure felt like I was there. Next time I might just go solo. Until then I can live vicariously through the proibido funk CD-Rs I did score and the seamless mixes Diplo has made and inspired his film. This is quintessential Poolside. If you see the guy, beg him to get this out on DVD pronto.

Poolside with Pretty Poison

Summer of 1987. Poolside with Pretty Poison. I suppose the only notable factoid about their only chart-topper, the infectious bubblegum of “Catch Me (I’m Falling),” is that it was the theme to the Jon Cryer vehicle Hiding Out. Previously he was only known as Duckie, type-cast as the lovable, yet fey and therefore un-dateable, outsider of teen filmdom. Here he had the leading role, a dashing lawyer (?), forced to hide out as a popular new student at his local high school. I remember paying money at the Mayflower in Troy to see this garbage – don’t remember much of the movie, but do remember this song.

Pretty Poison was of course a turn-yr-head and miss them fabrication of the ‘80s, but look at how many cultural identifiers you can pick from just this clip. They had it all – wild, freestyle beat, roller-skate synth-line, a keytar, a wicked vocoded guitar solo right there at 2:48 (worth the nostalgic pain, just for that), and a hairspray-shellacked lead singer. A shame they couldn’t have a follow-up with this much plastic.

Poolside with the Jets

Though I was, poolside, a closeted fan of the Tongan family synth-pop of the Jets, it was taboo for a fifth-grade male to enjoy the same group kids still watching the Disney Channel dug. A vivid memory from that year, besides Ms. Orange, was the x-tian girl whose parents would only allow her to listen to the Jets and Billy Joel. (?) She was a crazed Jets fan, knew all their names, joined the fan club, constantly wore the official neon-green Jets fan club sweatshirt. It was like brother DUG obsessed with only Huey Lewis and the News for a good 12 months.

She’d line-up her tapes on the desk every morning before class – who could forget Magic with the hits “Cross My Broken Heart,” “Rock It to You,” and “Make it Real,” or The Jets S/T LP featuring my poolside selection of the week, “Crush on You” ?? Those would be sandwiched by her holy grail bookends, The Stranger and An Innocent Man. Escaping renditions of “Uptown Girl” were futile. But the Jets – full of hits. And now I find they came from Minnesota – which may explain the sugary Jam and Lewis-esque funk of these tracks. There were eight of them, so this dance-pop had to be dense. It’s only a matter of time before the blog-housers start to pilfer everything teen-pop from Mandy Moore’s “Candy” on back.



This edition was meant for Starpoint, and their curiously wonderful Object of My Desire, if just for the roller-skate lcd popcorn synth that kicks it off. Strangely, the only version I could find is their one and only appearance on Soul Train – unable to embed. FAIL.

Poolside with Stevie B.

I'm not here to convince y'all that Akon's "Right Now" is a wonderful song. It is, but it's more about how "Right Now" was the soundtrack to my recent Brazilian experience. That's the m.o. in the country, one song sticks and then plays infinitely for months on end. I couldn't escape a corner without hearing the sickly sweet and infectious chorus. It seemed to perfectly match the beaming sun, the quick, frenetic driving of my in-laws, and the electric pulse on the streets (at all times, in all places). I'm certainly in withdrawl, especially now back on the tundra. I miss that electricity.

But this isn't about Akon. It's about Stevie. B., poolside. Remember how I begged for some Latin Freestyle tips, knowing that it would put me in the right frame of mind? Well, I step into my cousin's new Rio apartment and start picking through a plastic bag of her cds. And she says, "I bet you want to listen to some Stevie B. ?" I couldn't refuse, it was a magical momement. The Brahma started to flow and the balcony was forced to withstand improvised dancing, while the neighborhood below absolutely bustled with that pulse again. It was Rio after all.

So though Stevie B. did do "Because I Love You (The Postman Song)" -- he was also responsible for "Spring Love" and this fly little hairdo....

Poolside with Shannon

More like roller-skating bumper, but all the Lisa Lisa & the Cult Jam vids forbid embedding. Seems like every time I head down Brazil way I get re-infatuated with Freestyle comps and Lisa Lisa, and of course, my Piqua 36 roller-skating youth. I also continue digging through the history of Brazilian music, preferring Caetano on the long plane ride, but this saccharine pop is perfect for impending days spent poolside with the Sound System and some ice cold chopp.

So....the first in the beginning of long series of Poolside...Shannon's "Let the Music Play"