Mad Men - "A Little Kiss": Music à la Mode

It's been far too long, my dear old friend -- three fingers of MaCallan 18, in an old fashioned. Oh, and Mad Men as well, as it's the long awaited fifth season premiere that brings my bottle of scotch out of hiding once again. So what is it now, June of 1966? Watching the "Previously on..." I realized how much I've forgotten in the two years we've been apart. Even more than in year's past, Matthew Weiner was content in easing us back into things, letting us hang out with old friends, catching up on what's been going on since we saw them last.

Megan has obviously had an effect on Don, first from looking at the decor in the apartment, then the look on Sally's face watching her dad and Megan interact (and Don's making breakfast!); and in Draper's much more relaxed demeanor in the office. This 'catching up' scene was backed by organist Ken Griffin's "Marea Baja," an artist who died too early in the 50s but continued having albums released by Columbia for another decade (one could say that Ken Griffin was the Tupac Shakur of his day and be sort of right).

The musical moment everyone will be (already are) talking about is Megan's performance of the French song "Zou Bisou Bisou," originally performed by 16-year old Gillian Hills. Part of the French "yéyé" pop movement, the song would've been a hit just a few years prior in Quebec, where Megan's from. Gillian Hills version was much more restrained, to say the least (video below), but Megan's sultry take on it in fishnet stockings is one of our first truly 60s moments in the show, where we finally feel pulled into what we think of when the decade is brought to mind. The 60s has always hovered at the peripherals, but in the world of Sterling Cooper, it has remained in the 50s until now. Maybe it's the fact that it's the first opportunity I've had to see it in HD, but the set and wardrobe colors seem much brighter -- further evidence of that decade's late arriving cultural shadow.

As Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce deal with the reality of their Equal Opportunity Employer gag ad, Dusty Springfield's "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me," her first HUGE hit after which (released in March of 1966) she became the biggest selling female artist in the world, making her an appropriate choice to further set that year as our new setting.

Playlist: Mad Men - Episode 5.01 (Spotify)
1. "Marea Baja" - Ken Griffin
2. "Zou Bisou Bisou" - Gillian Hills (sung by Megan at Don's birthday party)
3. "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me" - Dusty Springfield

UPDATE: The song as performed by Jessica Pare is now available both from iTunes AND on vinyl (in red or black) via Insound.


Previously: Mad Men - "Tomorrowland" (Episode 4.13)

Life on Mars: Find Yourself

This was the weakest of the episodes for the stateside version of Life on Mars so far, even though the storyline had great potential, with the theme of 'finding yourself,' and interweaving the troubles of returning Vietnam Vets and similar troubles of gays coming out of the closet. The season's plot has Sam searching to find himself as a boy, while the sixties' version of 'finding yourself' is still prevalent in 1973, shown here through guru-led peaceniks. By choosing the most innocuous tracks from the late sixties (Tommy James & the Shondells, The Turtles, Marmalade) to back the 'hippie freaks,' as Ray so fondly calls them, we're being reminded that the sixties doesn't have much in the way of teeth by this point.

Meanwhile, their leader Sticker (sp?) sees Sam and says he "looks like a star, but is really out on parole," lyrics from Mott the Hoople's "All the Way From Memphis", which appeared in last week's episode, reinforcing the song's parallels to Sam's situation.

Another fine pop cultural reference with parallels is the reference to the film Soylent Green, which famously follows to cops from the future (played by Charleton Heston and Edward G. Robinson) who find that there's a lot more to the murder their investigating. Whereas Soylent Green uses the future to comment on the environment, the Life on Mars goes back in time to do the same with gay rights and hate crimes (Gene: "As opposed to what? An 'I like you' crime?").

Also of note this week is the new use of a Mike Post-inspired score to emphasize the explicit setting of a 70's cop show, versus this just being a period specific drama. "Book 'em Dan-O" indeed.

Ray's quote of the week: "Saddle up no-nuts... we're going to need that dewey-eyed doo-doo that you do"

Life on Mars - Episode 1.03
1. "Sweet Cherry Wine" - Tommy James & The Shondells"
2. "I'm Chief Kamanawanalea (We're The Royal Macadamia Nuts)" - The Turtles
3. "Just a Little Lovin'" - Dusty Springfield
4. "Reflections of my Life" - Marmalade

Previously: You look like a star but you're still on the dole (Episode 1.02)

Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist: Does your chewing gum lose it's flavor?

Perhaps I'm stating the obvious, but the best soundtracks always take on the character of the movie they accompany -- and vice versa -- and that's certainly the case with Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. The film, which follows the bridge-and-tunnel protagonists Nick (Michael Cera) and Norah (Kat Dennings) on a night of hijinks through the streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan, is packed full of blink-and-you-miss-it hipster cameos from current faves Andy Samberg, Seth Myers, John Cho and Kevin Corrigan. Likewise, the soundtrack is so chock-full of NOW indie rock, that it can make you feel like you're really trapped in the back seat of Nick's claustrophobic yellow Yugo. (A magical Yugo, it seems, as it's somehow always able to easily find street parking in Manhattan.)

Vampire Weekend, Modest Mouse, The National and Band of Horses are all on board, but in fact, they're impact in the film is felt even less than the five seconds of Andy Samberg's homeless beastiality turn. The song selections aren't all as wasted, though. In fact both the film and soundtrack start off beautifully, pairing the heartbreak of Chris Bell ("Speed of Sound") with the equally devastated Nick. Leaving the pathetic phone message with Bell on in the background (on vinyl, no less) tells us more about Nick in the first few minutes than the rest of the film will

There are more touching moments like this, where the music pairing is thoughtful and not concerned with being hip. A little past halfway through the film, there's a montage that features Richard Hawley's enchanting "Baby You're My Light," and then a little later, the Paul Tiernan ballad "How to Say Goodbye" provides ample goosebumps in a scene between our love birds. All these songs seem more in the spirit of what the book, that the film was adapted from, was aiming for. Co-writer Rachel Cohn recently provided a list of all the music mentioned in the novel, which, in many respects, would've made for a better film, perhaps on par with High Fidelity. Telling that the only artist that made it into this adaptation (Dusty Springfield, albeit with a different song, "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me,") wasn't included on the soundtrack. To that end, here's a playlist of all the music I noticed in the film, including those songs that didn't make the soundtrack:

Playlist: Rssmbld Sndtrck - Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
Tracklisting

The original Nick and Nora (Charles, The Thin Man) were detectives solving a mystery, and that's sort of the case here as well, as our protagonists look for clues to hunt down the location of a secret show by their favorite band, the fictional Where's Fluffy. First they find each other, starting the night at a Bishop Allen show, whose opening act is Nick's queercore band We're the Jerk-Offs (the other 2/3 of Nick's band are gay, 3/4 if you count the drum machine, which is so gay). One of the clues they find leads to a bait-and-switch show, featuring the infectious Brooklyn laptop duo Project Jenny, Project Jan as the disappointing Are You Randy? For some reason, their song "Negative" empties the building like a bomb threat. Another search requiring gumshoe is finding the alcoholic Caroline (played by the scene stealing Ari Gaynor,) who has run off after overhearing something about "going balls deep." It's the stoner metal act Scissorfight that provides the phrase with their disturbing song "Balls Deep," and make for one of the more interesting music choices of the film, especially given their name's reference to tribadism. I guess it's just as well, considering there's a gay Lothario involved as well.

Devendra Banhart makes a cameo as well, but his is even more puzzling to me. "This is my song," says Norah at one point, perking up when the Banhart's "Lover" plays in a club (the song's second appearance in the film). Later, though, in an awkward cameo Banhart speaks to her, and she doesn't seem to have any clue (or care) who he is. Maybe it's just that Banhart isn't playing himself, but he certainly dressed the part -- no wardrobe staff required here.

It was towards the end of the film, probably as Nick steered his yellow Yugo into another mythical NYC parking spot, that I found myself flashing back to Martin Scorsese's under-appreciated work After Hours (1985,) which similarly follows it's hapless protagonist Paul (Griffin Dunne) all night through the streets of New York, peppered with a great collection of hilarious cameos. Instead of that film's lost $20 bill loosely tying the film together, though, here we're subjected to Caroline's gum. After awhile, like the film and soundtrack, even puke-laden gum inevitably loses it's bite. In the end, both the film and soundtrack prove to be color-by-number offerings, sprinkled with just enough interesting moments to keep you caring to the end.

More: Heck, I'm a bit more partial to the playlists that actors Michael Cera and Kat Dennings put together for iTunes (Cera, for the record, doesn't own an iPod).
Michael Cera's Playlist
Kat Denning's Playlist