Word: singings
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...shock but not a really surprise. Another Christmas death, another pop-cultural immortal with a Dec. 25 tombstone. Add James Brown to a distinguished list that includes Charlie Chaplin, W.C. Fields and Dean Martin (Birgit Nilsson, if you want to go a bit upmarket). Along with the Noels, sing a requiem for the Godfather of Soul. But make sure it ends with Brown?s trademark ?Hey!? - that quick, high-pitched syllable that exploded from him with seismic suddenness, like the bark of an electrocuted schnauzer...
...lifted to his feet by attendants and, with the robe of a defeated boxer draped over his shoulders, began to drag himself toward the wings - until the cries of the audience magically revived him, like Lazarus or Frankenstein?s monster, and he summoned the will and strength to sing one more chorus...
...secular tunes, the novelty songs and ballads. Grandma has spun these standards for a half century or more, replacing the 78s with LPs, then cassettes and now CDs. The formats change; the songs and feelings don't. Some time in the next few days, you'll hear Bing Crosby sing "White Christmas," and shed a tear or grit your teeth...
...title suggests the London Underground and, surely, its 2005 terror bombings) throbs with anxiety, foreboding and half-suppressed violence. Heaney's language is a symphony of sounds, surprises and look-'em-up words, like his barber's "cold smooth creeping steel and snicking scissors." You'll want to sing his lines out loud - until you realize how deadly serious the post-9/11 Heaney can be. "Anything can happen," he warns, "the tallest towers/ Be overturned, those in high places daunted,/ Those overlooked regarded." The world has changed, he is saying, and those cold, smooth, snicking scissors are creeping toward...
...have never been stronger. The instrumentation on their fourth album keeps a toe in country, yet the songs are the best kind of pop--smart, instantly memorable and fussed over until they sound effortless. Not Ready to Make Nice broadcasts their grievances, but Bitter End and So Hard (a sing-along about infertility) prove that complicated songwriting for the masses still flourishes...