...That he Savage Garden songs for his favorite sports team.

If you were hoping that you could join me in listening to semi-random music while working late into the night, then here’s your chance. A late night list of tunes to nudge your creative spirit (or irritate the neighbors).

I consider both to be worthy goals.

It’s been a dreary day here in Denver. A gray, weepy game with drizzling, cold rain and snow. For a melancholic soul like me, it’s a catalyst for the worst of my own mind. Fears, worries, and a creeping, spidery awareness of my own failings poke at the back of my head, needle sharp and insistent. Much of it comes from memories that play in my head as if the I was living through some of the worst moments of my life again.

I can see, hear, smell, and feel everything that happened in those moments. Sometimes I think I understand junkies and alcoholics. If you can’t turn off the noise in your head by shear force of will, if you can’t find a way to get away from the most vicious bits of yourself, then drugs and booze are a hell of a temptation.

Which is one of the reasons I stopped drinking at one point in my first marriage. Not that it saved us, but I started to understand why I liked drinking so much, and it wasn’t a very happy realization.

Some of you know that I lost a friend when I turned 21. He died an ugly death around the same time I started bartending--a death directly attributable to his alcoholism. I had been drinking since I was about 13, but his death was almost like someone firing a starter pistol and I was racing to the bottom of the bottle. Most people that I knew then were drinking because it was part of the party; I was drinking because I wanted to kill myself. I had a very specific view of myself and I wanted to destroy the person that I saw, I wanted him to sink away and never come up for air.

Of course, it wasn’t always that way and it wasn’t constant--which is why I never quite made it to either addiction or suicide, why I still had friends, and why, when I grew up some, I found out that I could be okay. That I could start shaping my life to be something better, something happier and more full. I think I also learned that loneliness is largely a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But some nights, old habits crawl back in.

Which, if you know me well, probably explains my taste in music. If I have to relive the worst bits of my life, then the soundtrack should fit, right?

With that introduction, here are a few songs that I’ve been playing today. Enjoy.

Global warming!

When do we want it?

Now!

Well, global warming and more muay thai on ESPN 8, the Ocho.

Thanks to Steve for sharing the good stuff.

In reference to the Super Bowl half time show: lovely light show, but a boring performance from a band who hasn’t had a meaningful hit in longer than I can remember. Not that they didn’t play well and do their best to inject energy and excitement into their mini-concert/mash-up of some of their biggest hits. It’s just that the music sounds nothing close to relevant.

Was this really the best choice for keeping the audience in their seats instead of clicking over to the latest Danica Patrick “Too Hot for TV Internet Only” abomination at GoDaddy.com?

Think of this as my apology for that last post. It’s best enjoyed loud.

Not my favorite Queens album, but I love the song. There’s some fun guitar work in there, too.

While I don’t think that the US has fallen into a second Great Depression, I do think that we can look back and enjoy some music.

And when I go home tonight, I think I’ll torture my wife by making he watch Cinderella Man. Just to keep the mood going.

I know that there are probably hundreds or even tens or perhaps precisely zero people out there wondering what I’m listening to right now. Which is why I felt compelled to share.

I see that you’re wondering, what the heck does this have to do with Mark Lanegan? That’s an excellent question: Wendy Rae Fowler, one of the band members, is his ex-wife.

In case you were wondering.

I really don’t like Conan O’Brien. He isn’t that funny, I don’t like the way he interviews folks, and I thought he was a horrible choice to inherit the Tonight Show mantle. It just didn’t seem to be the right fit--like asking Megadeth to cover White Lion’s “When the Children Cry.” And to mean it.

NBC is treating him like the history of music will treat the memory of Kip Winger. Their idea of trying to pull Jay’s show back into the late night time slot and devaluing the Tonight Show brand (which Conan rightfully calls the “greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting") is about as smart as playing Warrant’s “Cherry Pie” for an audience of Bad Brains fans. Which, we all know how bad that would be, don’t we?

Anyway, his valiantly defiant news release is even funnier than Ozzy Osbourne’s less sober moments.

None of which changes the fact that Victoria Beckham looks scarily plastic on American Idol tonight. What the hell happened to that woman’s face? Whatever it is, that’s some scary bad makeup. It’s like the worst of the 60’s and Tammy Fay Baker all came together in one big, laminated mask upon her face.

Not an attractive look.

Joe Henry’s thrillingly good, Blood from Stars, probably went unnoticed by, well, nearly everyone. It shouldn’t have; it’s an eclectic romp that touches on so many styles and themes that it’s hard to describe. What sticks, though, is the poetry of his lyrics as they twist through little stories.

A wonderfully talented artist.

What the hell was Neil Diamond thinking with “Cherry Cherry Christmas?” That, in all its self-referential glory, may well be the worst, the cheesiest, and the most painful of all contrived Christmas pop songs.

I’d much rather listen to Bill Nighy (as the hilarious aging rock star, Billy Mack in the movie Love Actually) singing his “festering turd of a record.” For those who haven’t seen it, in a desperate attempt to make a little more money and get his name back in the headlines, Billy Mack records a version of “Love is All Around” that is written specially for Christmas. Even Mack can’t like it, but his refreshing honesty strikes a chord with listeners and he ends up being the number one Christmas album of the season. Fun stuff.

But I doubt that Neil will have the guts to tell us that his own stunt-record to look to the camera and say, “This is shit, isn’t it?”

Yes, yes, Mr. Nighy, it is shit. But it’s still better than “Cherry Cherry Christmas.”

The polite view--and, I’m really trying to be polite here--of the singing of the Avatar theme song (I’m not sure if that’s the actual name of the song* or not, but roll with me)--is that:

A- The songwriter was having an off however the hell long it took for him or her to write the song.

B- The singer was had a cold and it made her sound like a sniffly walrus.

C- The seamstress was a blind charity case with substance abuse issues.

Because, to be honest, that dress was the best part of the worst performance of a hideous song that I’ve seen on national TV since William Hung had his too many minutes of entirely unearned fame.

* And, since I can’t help myself, that would be Leona Lewis singing “I See You.” Which does nothing to change my opinion of the song or the performance. I sounded like someone wanted to almost re-write that painfully irritating Celine Dion song from Titanic,** but both song and singer were lesser talents.

** “My Heart Will Go On.” And, yes, I had to look that up, too. God, I’m pathetic. I even listened to the thing to make sure it was the song I was thinking of. People, I torture myself for your enlightenment. And I’m not talking any wussy waterboarding, here, I’m talking listening to freakin’ Celine Dion. Thank yous in the form of cash are entirely acceptable.

Update: Why does Adam Lambert have a giant poopy on his shoulder? His song, aside from being less nauseating than “I See You,” was so blandly pedestrian as to make me wish for more boy-on-boy smooching and assorted, simulated naughtiness. At least he was interesting when he was being offensive.

If you’ve never heard the Raveonettes, you’re missing a treat. Think fifties pop rock with a little Jesus & Mary Chain and a latter-day punk aesthetic--and, in this case, singing a Christmas tune. And if you like this one, check out their romping fun tune, “Beat City,” which is all sorts of socially unacceptable at loud volumes.

Scott Weiland is also all sorts of socially unacceptable. His drug problems probably keep him off the really good Christmas party lists because, let’s be honest, no one wants to invite the guy who ends up peeing on the fake tree in the corner. Aside from that, though, there’s the fact that Stone Temple Pilots sort of sucked. Still, he sounds almost pretty singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and he just barely earns himself a mention on my rather random list of Christmas tunes.

Now, if you want something more substantial, you’ll have to check out my comment on Ed Driscoll’s site. I’m getting ready to start my new job tomorrow (and, yes, I’m here in Irwindale wishing I’d brought more clothes) and that’s all the room I have for the world of blogginess tonight.

Tonight’s song, “Blue Christmas” done psychobilly style, is just about the fun. It’s goofy, it’s fast, and it sounds like the Hatfield and McCoys got together for a hoedown over too many eggnogs. Which, if that doesn’t sound good to you, you might want to skip this one.

Just sayin’.

And after that note, here’s a little classic Bill Cosby. Now, I’m not going to lie: this isn’t my favorite Cosby bit, but it does fit the season.

None of which should detract from an article that y’all really should be reading today. Quin Hillyer’s warning about the erosion of property rights is just as important as any other fight that conservatives and libertarians should be paying attention to right now.

The unfortunate erosion of property rights has occurred despite a huge public backlash in the past several years against the Kelo v. New London decision in 2005. That was the Supreme Court case in which a Connecticut town successfully seized private property not just for public use, but also for private development surrounding new offices for the Pfizer Inc. drug corporation. (The destruction of that Connecticut neighborhood became all the more painful when Pfizer announced Nov. 9 that it would leave New London anyway, taking away the 1,400 jobs that were supposed to be the project’s main benefit.)

And, yes, he does tie it in to this week’s EPA carbon dioxide ruling. I find myself wondering if citizens outside the hyper-politicized crowd that I travel in have noticed the incredibly far-reaching effects that the EPA decision will have in this country? Sometimes I want to close my eyes to the politics for a while. Fighting the same fights year after year after year gets seriously tiring. For that matter, it doesn’t seem healthy to be surrounded by outrage all the time--and, in blogging, finding the latest outrage really is a good bit of the game, isn’t it?

But damned if our political and bureaucratic classes don’t need as much oversight as all of us can provide and outrageous behavior is about as well-hidden as Tiger Woods’ entire harem of hussies.

Ray Charles sings one of my favorite versions of “Little Drummer Boy"--complete with slide guitar, brass, and a really great vibe.

You know you love it.

None of which explains why our friends in Britain are imposing a 50% special tax on bankers’ bonuses. What irritates most about this (and do read the comments at the linked article) is the raw popularity of this kind of move. Class warfare like this is neither good business (in trying to punish these people, it fairly encourages work-arounds to maintain the pay schedule and avoid the extra taxes--achieving precisely neither of the stated goals) nor is it good ethics (it is not simply unfair, but injurious that a person face confiscatory and capricious taxes of this nature simply because of his or her chosen field).

The British government on Wednesday said banks would pay a one-time, 50% tax on bonuses worth more than 25,000 pounds ($40,700) in an effort to encourage banks to rebuild their capital bases and continue lending to individuals and businesses.

David Wessel reports on results from a panel dissussion on international regulation, along with Sir Andrew Crockett, Dame Clara Furse and Fichard Gnodde at the Future of Finance conference.

Chancellor of the Exchequer Alistair Darling delivered the blow in his annual pre-budget report, which also laid out the government’s plans to cut the deficit over the next four years.

Darling said he was giving banks, which have all benefited directly or indirectly from massive government aid, a choice.

“They can use their profits to build up their capital base. But if they insist on paying substantial rewards, I am determined to claw money back for the taxpayer,” he said.

You won’t see too many people crying for those bankers; the portrait of the banker is the fat cat who profits on the labors of the little people, so who cares about them? The principle is worth supporting, though: no citizen should live in fear of an arbitrary tax being levied against them because they chose the wrong job.

What do I know, though? I’m just some marketing guy who trusts that the government won’t come along and crush me with new taxes, regulations, and fees for such whimsical reasons. Which might just be another way of saying “sucker.”

Here’s a different, jazzier take on “Silent Night” from the great Charles Brown, who has a fine voice and an even better hand with the piano.

And then a groovy James Brown number just because it’s fun.

Here’s one for the traditionalists out there. “The Angel Gabriel” (also known as “Gabriel’s Message,” which is how Sting recorded it for one of those late eighties MTV Christmas albums) is an ethereal, gentle thing when sung by a proper choir. This happens to be one of the prettiest versions I’ve heard.

Moya Brennan does a lovely version, too. I would suggest avoiding the Jars of Clay “Gabriel’s Message,” but it might just be my general aversion to the band more than a specific complaint.

For what it’s worth.

Now that I’m pretty sure I’m clear to post Christmas music, I’m going to totally get carried away with my newfound power. Strange, fun, wicked, and beautiful songs are coming your way thanks to Apple’s impulse buy, Lala.com, and my own personal taste for Christmas oddities.

This one is not going to be to everyone’s taste, but if you’re one of those people who ever sat and wondered what it would sound like if Judas Priest ever took a shot at “Oh Come, Oh Come Emanuel,” here’s a taste of Rob Halford’s latest, Winter Songs. You’ll never have to wonder again.

If you were curious, I’m really enjoying Lala.com. For those of you new to the site, the deal is that it lets you listen one time to the full song and then lets you listen to 30 second snippets. You can purchase ten cent “web songs” or you can download music for .89. Similar to the original MP3.com (with one very significant difference, though, which saved it from being sued out of existence), it also lets you upload your own music and stream it through their online interface. Nifty service, fair pricing, and fun. That said, I had heard that it was bleeding money and didn’t see any turn-around soon. Apple probably got it fairly cheap.

I wonder what they’ll will do with it?

I mean, it’s after Thanksgiving. It’s December.

Do I have license to play Christmas music now? If so, here’s an awfully happy opening salvo: Richard Ruskin and John Fahey playing “Oh Holy Night” from Fahey’s album, The New Possibility: John Fahey’s Soli Christmas Album.

Glorious.

In particular, bless these Clash of the Titans lovin’, mythology debatin’ geeks and this mildly gnawed child.

And then play and old Carpenters song just to make the whole musical pun really come to life.

For the record, the remake of Clash of the Titans is certain to best the original in dramatic tension, violence, and special effects, but it will have none of the pure, shining fun of the original. Great movies don’t revolve around seamless CGI and glowering protagonists. Story and sense of wonder are important, too, which fact is well illustrated by movies like The Princess Bride and Harvey. Movie makers these days don’t have much of a grasp of that fact which is why Pixar really shines to me. Of course, Pixar also has groundbreakingly awesome animation…