I am a Patriot

Sweet Talk

From the brain flow of Paste's Editor At Large:

Some nefarious music hounds from Decatur twisted my outsized ego into creating a dialogue littered with opinionated recommendations and myopic rants. Therefore, to put a smidgen of decency back into nepotism, I have stolen the title "Sweet Talk" in homage of my father who had a weekly sports and leisure column of the same in the early 70's that was syndicated in several small town newspapers in the land the gods made great, New England (sans Connecticut of course). Luckily this space will focus more on sporting leisure, my favorite kind.

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My favorite sports writer, Bill Simmons aka The Sports Guy, is the ultimate homer. Meaning he’s not afraid to write as a fan of his home team. I’m especially lucky because he’s a Boston homer like me. After the Red Sox won in ‘04 I wanted to write long essay on the burden that had been lifted from my father’s soul and my superstitious compulsions. However after reading Simmons’ book Now I Can Die In Peace, it was unnecessary for he perfectly captured everything I ever wanted to say on the subject. In fact he routinely does this in his weekly column for ESPN.com. My friend Josh actually prints out the column every Friday and saves it as a special treat for the train ride home. It’s his ritual way of ushering in the weekend. I on the other hand set the alarm for a half hour before my son Go-Go wakes up just to have the laptop all to myself in the pre-dawn light. Mind you this is on Saturday mornings. So you can imagine how anxious I was to read his column after my beloved New England Patriots, the group of rag tag position players who have come to ultimately define the true meaning of team in the modern era of professional sports, eked out of San Diego last weekend with an improbable win.

His ability to capture every New England fans inner most fears and confidence is uncanny, but the best part is he shares his column space with his readers for they come sup with some perfectly crafted adages as well. To wit, here are some of the highlights of this weeks read:

"I can’t believe how well New Hampshire reader Tony Westover summed up my feelings on that whining nickname-stealer LaDainian Tomlinson: "I can understand why LT thought it was disrespectful and unclassy that the Patriots started ‘doing the dance Shawne Merriman is known for.’ Imagine if the Chargers won and some of their players went and did the Tom Brady dance at the midfield? Oh wait ... Tom Brady doesn’t have a dance because he’s a class act and doesn’t do steroids."

Nashua’s Todd Sullivan: "(San Diego’s hapless Coach) Marty’s challenge of Troy Brown’s strip reminded me of Demi Moore’s ‘I strenuously object’ scene in ‘A Few Good Men.’"

I can’t believe that the Chargers complained about a lack of class when Shawne Merriman attended a Chargers rally last week and egged on a "Brady sucks!’ chant. No, really. This happened. Here’s the evidence on YouTube. And while we’re here, I can’t believe how many readers e-mailed me some variation of the "Ron Burgundy was right—San Diego really does mean ‘a whale’s vagina!’

" Yes. Perfection. Not always the best writing but always right to the heart of the matter in our pop cultured world. The reason I bring this all up is because something Simmons mentioned about fandom that put a stone in my gizzard. In speaking about how most of America is sick of the Patriots winning (even though they don’t have some asinine egotistical "superstar" and manage to do EVERYTHING as a team) he had the following explanation:

Now we’re on six years of football euphoria. And I get the part where the outside world is ready for another team, because that’s the way our society works now: We embrace something new, digest it, beat it into the ground and move on to something else. One minute, "Borat" is the greatest comedy of all-time; the next minute, it’s overrated. One minute, everyone loves "Lost"; the next minute, we’re wondering if it jumped the shark. One minute, everyone loves The Killers; the next minute, they’re self-important sellouts. It’s the Everything Sucks Era. We spend an inordinate amount of time bitching about everyone else. Nobody’s good, nobody’s worthwhile and everybody needs to go away. That’s the prevailing theme. And after their third Super Bowl victory, the Patriots entered the "all right, you guys can go away now, you’ve ceased to be interesting" stage of their run, where we’ve been stuck for the past two seasons. I’m sure the players and coaches don’t care, but for the fans, it’s been bittersweet and even a little discouraging. If you can’t appreciate THIS team, even as an impartial observer, what does that say about the future of sports?

What does this say about the future of music? In writing features on both Son Volt and Cowboy Junkies I allude to how the cyclical musical tastes of the republic speed up with each merger, acquisition and false "new Dylan / Cash / Jagger" label. The prepubescent musical attention span shrinking with each episode of the OC (R.I.P. Sandy Coen) errrr ............ Laguna Beach ............ err ........hmmmm.....Living Lahaina. While I admit at times to music snobbery, I think the real crime for which I appear guilty is continually searching for the next great thing. Are we conditioned to do so? Do we need to tear down our musical heroes in order to build them up three albums later. Can I get a "Jack and Diane"? Can I get a "Pink Houses"? Can I get an Amen? So this is my pledge to you dear reader. I will try my darn tootness to avoid the "Everything Sucks Era" because hopefully like Identity this too shall pass.

What Sweettalk has going before kickoff: (Man, what I wouldn’t give to be in charge of the PA system in the RCA Dome tonight)

"7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 (Blow Your Whistle)" Gary Toms Empire

"Doing it To Death (Gonna Have a Funky Good Time)" James Brown (R.I.P James Brown )

"Shapes of Things To Come" the Black Crowes with Jimmy Page LIVE at the Greek version (if I was only Tom’s personal pre-game DJ)

"Rocket 88" Jackie Brenston and His Delta Kings (gotta give Marvin Harrison the respect or else he’ll come back to haunt my dreams; call it reverse superstition)

"Good Times" Sam Cooke (given)

"Memphis Soul Stew" King Curtis and the Kingpins (studio/Single version) (just because it’s perhaps the best song ever written and the best deserves the best)

"Handclapping Song" The Meters (for the hardcores who made the drive to Indy from god’s country)

"Higher Ground" Red Hot Chili Peppers

"Good Rockin’ Tonight" Wynonie Harris

"Step It Up (featuring Alice Russell)" Bamboos

"Set You Free" The Black Keys

"Cum On Feel The Noize" Bran Van 3000

"The Magnificent Seven" The Clash (for the Pats D line)

"Race For the Prize" Flaming Lips "Free To Run" Gomez (for Corey Dillon)

"Good Times Comin’ My Way" Lassie Foundation

"Superfucker" Los Amigos Invisibles (for Mr. Patriot Troy Brown)

"The Razor" The Perceptionists

"Good Times Roll pt. 2" RJD2