Singling Out 2008: Tricky, Brad Paisley, Mike Doughty, more

Brad Paisley, "Waitin' on a Woman" (No. 1 on Rosen's list)
Still haven't gotten around to hearing Paisley's reportedly guitar-obsessed Play from this year (hey, there's only so many hours in the day), though I expect to like it when I finally do. The once seemingly goody-goody hat-actor has loosened up considerably in the middle '00s, as evidenced by his recent ability to score with chuckle-worthy novelties like "Alcohol" and "Ticks" in year-end critics' polls, though his guitaring still displays way more personality than his singing does. As Rosen points out, this particular song is actually three years old, but the new version has Andy Griffith doing talking parts. Which, as far as I can tell, means stiffly finishing Brad's sentences, thereby cutting into a fair-to-middling melody and words that start promisingly at Westtown Mall but get less specific as verses wear on. Which they do. Best parts by far: the guitars. Which sound superb.

Lee Ann Womack, "Last Call" (No. 4 on Rosen's list)
Lee Ann Womack’s sound has long walked a line between older country and modern Nashville’s poppier proclivities, and on 2005’s There’s More Where That Came From, the synthesis hit paydirt: songs crafted catchily enough for radio, but with a ‘70s-retro sheen that struck industry insiders as classy enough to win her a stack of awards. Her belated followup, Call Me Crazy from this year, likewise piled on trad trappings: gospel piano, bluegrass mandolin, sweet strings, weepy Wurlitzer. It started out strong - this forlorn and spacious opening track, about a suitor who only dials her drunk, broke hearts for sure. But though the bare-bones mating of comely melody with puzzling lyric in “The Bees” provided momentary mystery (which is to say it's a pretty weird song), most of the rest settled for tepid good taste; by album's end, Womack was blatantly cloning her 2000 smash “I Hope You Dance.” Anyway, this is a right purty single. But folks who claim Lee Ann has returned to her original role as a traditionalist must never have noticed how pop her first two albums were. (Her best hit ever, 1998's "I'll Think of a Reason Later," was totally a pop-country song.) And if her new album is more trad than usual, maybe that's also why it's more dull than usual.

Tricky, "Council Estate" (No. 6 on Rosen's list)
Ha ha, I am not British. Which means the title of this song just sounds exotic to me, and reminds me of Johnny Rotten snarling about "another council tenancy" in "Anarchy in the U.K." (later translated obscenely by Dave Mustaine in Megadeth's idiotic version). I think it might have something to do with the working class, though. And exotic is good! And so is class war! So, this song has a lot going for it even before you hear it. And when you hear it, you get noisy sound effects -- also good! Then Tricky starts toasting in a cracked, mannered voice about being in his mom's womb (perhaps her name was Pauline, and she lived in a tree?), after which he gets born and hates school. And then this turns into a booming you're-a-superstar lesson for growing boys. (The background guy saying "superstar" sounds like Falco in "Rock Me Amadeus"!) Nice to know Tricky cares about the youth, but personally, I could do without the self-help. Good first half, lame second.

Busy Signal, "Tic Toc" (No. 10 on Rosen's list)
More toasting. From Jamaica. With obligatory Crazy Frog ribbits. Though crazy frogs do them funnier. I do like the tick-tocking girl, who sounds like a crazy clock. Which beats sounding like a busy signal, though I don't doubt the twinkly techno hook wiggling through this would make for a useful ringtone. As for Busy Signal, the dancehall guy, he sounds kinda dry to me. But he juices up in his more Middle-Eastern falsetto moments.

Mike Doughty, "More Bacon Than the Pan Can Handle" (No. 6 on Christgau's list)
Never connected with the erstwhile Dirty Sanchez's proto-Dave Matthews beatnik-spiel schtick in Soul Coughing, and this minute-and-a-half of gibberish jazzoetry seems similarly inclined: emperors, salamanders, utility men, hoop skirts, what? Alternately, it suggests a bad Beck outtake, with a girl who occasionally sounds like she's auditioning for a Celluloid Records 12" in the early '80s (but who doesn't make the cut) going "ya ya ya ya." Is that "better the devil you know" meant to be politically relevant? If so, how?

Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip, "Thou Shalt Always Kill" (No. 7 on Christgau's list)
More poetry-slammers masquerading as rappers. One of whom looks halfway Hasidic in the video. And (being from Essex, like Ian Dury) also sounds more Cockney than Tricky. And tells you (over a clanky electrobeat that momentarily brings to mind "Let's Go All the Way" by Sly Fox) not to take in vain the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, Desmond Dekker, Syd Barrett, Jim Morrison (a couple of whom are actually overrated anyway), and some other apparently dead heroes whose names I didn't catch. (Though calling the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Sex Pistols, Smiths, Minor Threat, Nirvana, Radiohead and the Next Big Thing "just a band" is apparently allowed, we're told later. Hmmm.) Dan Le Sac also says you shouldn't steal when there's a direct victim, or read N.M.E. , or stop liking bands just because they become popular, or drink Coca-Cola products, or fall in love so easily, or use poetry and/or music to get into girls' pants. Or forget that "guns, bitches and bling were never part of the four elements and never will be." But I'm giving away the plot too much, sorry. The duo also make an ironic joke about repetition that original U.K. crap-rapper Mark E. Smith did better three decades ago. And there's an anti-call-and-response part. And a part where they "mess up" and correct themselves (but leave their mistake in, which means it was on purpose). So: verbose. But you could surely say all the wordy words are supported by a moral backbone. Which counts for something, even if these stone tablets can't hold a candle to "Ten Commandments" by Prince Buster.