Sad news this weekend that Etta James is dying of leukemia. Hers is one of the greatest voices for the singing of rock n' roll, if not the the greatest voice for the singing of rock n' roll, that anyone has ever heard. As evidenced by the above, February, 1966 performance from the TV show "The! Beat!" She goes first and last.

A few years ago, there was a lot of talk about the idea of “The Great Rock n’ Roll Novel” and how it had not yet been written. “I've yet to read a novel that convincingly sums up the experience and the value of making popular music,” wrote The Guardian’s Graham Thompson, “or that captures the weird, savage compulsion that keeps everyone from Bloc Party to Bob Dylan traipsing around the world, year-in year-out.” In fact, Thompson wondered whether such a novel could ever be written. “Perhaps pop music is essentially worthless as an abstract idea and must be experienced at first hand to have value.” READ MORE

The Clash's London Calling came out thirty years ago today. It still stands as punk rock's crowning achievement. In fact, it's probably as responsible as any other work for the fact that the term "punk rock" seems kind of silly now. The Clash were a punk band, coming out of England with the Sex Pistols in the late '70s. But the music on London Calling ranges from reggae to rockabilly to snazzy pop tunes. It's thoughtful and refined, even gentle at times, and delivered with as much subtlety as spit. It rages and sneers, too, to be sure, but even in that, it proves the futility of thin definition and sub-categorization. It's all just rock n' roll, really, right? London Calling is just some of the very best of the stuff ever recorded. (Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go do a tango about the use of flying buttresses in gothic cathedrals.) Oh, and for perspective, 30 years before London Calling's release, it was December 14th, 1949, Elvis Presley hadn't recorded any songs and no one knew what "rock n' roll" was. So now rock has been dead and reborn for longer than it was alive in the first place. Or something.

Dear Black Sabbath,

I'm sorry I didn't vote for you in the "favorite band" poll Betsy Schroeder conducted for a science project when we were in seventh grade. After the initial round of questionnaires were filled out and tallied, you guys were tied for the lead with Men at Work. Somehow, stupidly, in the run-off, I voted for Men at Work. In fact (and I cringe at the memory) I joined Nicole Seitz and actually campaigned for Men at Work. Against you.

I don't know what I was thinking. You are clearly so much better than Men at Work. You are the mighty, mighty Sabbath, the Masters of Reality, the dark lords of metal. So powerful, so important, so influential to so many other bands that I love. You are simply one of the greatest groups of all time. Men at Work? "Who Can It Be Now"? "Down Under"? "It's a Mistake"? It sure was.

My memory of the final results is foggy. I believe there may have been a second tie. (Props to my classmates, visionary Beavis and Butthead prototypes Gregg Scott and Colin Dodds, for leading the charge in your defense. This apology goes partially to them, too.) I think Jeremy Johnson, practical diplomat that he always was, started a movement to bring in Rush as a third-party compromise. Regardless, the fact that my own ill-considered vote may have robbed you of some rightful glory around the halls of Markham Place Middle School, well, it seems pretty unforgivable in hindsight. I don't blame you if you're still mad.

I think about this a lot. It feels good to get it off my chest.

Dave

Previously: Dear 70-Year-Old Man In A Leg Brace

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are on tour! And Karen O, to her credit, is definitely not performing with a backing track. READ MORE