Monday Morning Mixtape 022: Twins [1988] Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito

Welcome to Monday Morning Mixtape, a PoYB Contributor-curated playlist of songs, made just for you at the start of each week.

A long one today! Thanks for being here! Drop all the pairs of same-title songs you missed in the comments below!!!

"Twins [1988] Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito"

Pairs of songs that have the same exact title but don't sound anything like each other at all

chosen by Joe

Spotify

YouTube

"All I Know" by Pepper's Ghost

from Shake the Hand That Shook the World, 2005
[only available on YouTube! and only because I personally added it to YouTube myself!!]

"All I Know" by Art Garfunkel

from Angel Clare, 1973

It's a fucking injustice, is what it is. It's been mentioned before, on this very mixtape, how the great unheralded Pepper's Ghost album Shake the Hand That Shook the World has all but disappeared from the internet. It's a kick in the gut, to know that there was music that was important to me when I was a teen, and it will more than likely not be all that important to any other teens from here on out. I don't like it. We need to care for our music better, for the sake of future generations.

And oh, but of course Art fucking Garfunkel is still here. Motherfucker. Terrible music. Terrible song. But it's on every streaming platform. Just click a button, and bam, you get to pump some maudlin fucking bullshit from some afro'd dork right into yr fucking eardrums. Meanwhile, Pepper's Ghost is left dead in a ditch and covered over in gravel. A grave injustice.

I am here to do my part. Here is a folder with mp3 copies of every song on Shake the Hand That Shook the World. Do with it what you will.  —Joe


"All My Friends" by Counting Crows

from This Desert Life, 1999

"All My Friends" by LCD Soundsystem

from Sound of Silver, 2007

Probably the most important thing to me in my life is my friends. There's nothing like catching up with someone who you shared a special connection with, and then years later you could effortlessly put that glove back on and feel the same way. I put friends above family in that I have many family members that I consider good friends. And I also have many good friends I consider family. But technically one can't be the other, while family can be friends. Maybe that's semantics. Either way, my chosen family of my friends is number one with a bullet in my heart. And whether the lame Counting Crows or ultra hip LCD Soundsystem croon about it, friends fucking rock.  —Sam


"Drive" by Carly Rae Jepsen

from Kiss (bonus track), 2012

"Drive" by the Gaslight Anthem

from Sink or Swim, 2007

My car rattles when I accelerate in a low gear. I didn't mention it when I got an oil change recently, but I figured it would be one of those things they called to up charge me on. But the mechanic overlooked it. Now, it's still clanging around, and my kids complain about it. I have an inspection in July, so I guess I'll raise it then. Until that point, I have a bit of a Schrödinger's cat of peril under my hood.  —Sam

"Gold Rush" by Lucius

from Lucius, 2025

"Gold Rush" by Stella Explorer

from Absolute Music 2/5, 2024

Sometime during the pandemic, I bought roller skates; it was trending on TikTok or Instagram, and I thought, why not? I loved roller skating as a kid. I only really stopped because my parents had us store our skates on the porch, and a huge spider moved into mine. I was horrified. My mom told me that that was a "kid problem," and that I could figure it out. I figured it out by just letting the spider keep my skates and focusing on other hobbies. When I bought these holographic peach-colored skates, I was healing that part of my inner child who still wanted to skate but had a healthy fear of spiders. I had visions of doing cool skating tricks and routines along the Schuylkill River trail. However, I used them only five or six times to go around my block and never got into it—maybe this summer? It's not like skates go bad. These songs both seem like they would be good to skate to.  —Gloria

"Horses" by Maggie Rogers

from Surrender, 2022

"Horses" by Jesse Welles

from Middle, 2025

I'm new to this. Maybe I shouldn't start out by trying to stretch the theme too much. With that said, I almost submitted "April She Will Come" for the songs with the word "May" mixtape. Not because I was being ironic, but because I just generally have a horrible time following instructions. So when I saw songs and "May," I immediately thought of this perfect two-and-a-half-minute song with the word "May" in it. But this is a moot point, because I missed that playlist boat. 

Anyway, for this week, I started looking through my favorite songs, and saw "Horses" by Maggie Rogers. And then I was like, wait, that new Jesse Welles song that I'm obsessed with is called "Horses" too. Do they sound completely different? Maybe not so different? Same XPN genre that reflects a lot of my liked songs. 

But they are about different things... Maggie Rogers is singing about breaking free, and Jesse Welles is singing about acceptance of others. I guess you could say both are about letting go of stories, the ones that hold us back from ourselves and the ones that hold us back from others. 

And then I couldn't help but also think of "Horses at Night" by Strand of Oaks. I adore the acoustic version. Can I add this as a third song that doesn't have exactly the same name but almost does?

I told you I'm not that good at following instructions. I'll let PoYB decide whether "Horses at Night" gets to make the mixtape too.  —Sarah Q.


"Hush" by the Marías

from CINEMA, 2021

"Hush" by Deep Purple

from Shades of Deep Purple, 1968

A notification appeared on my phone this week stating, "Loretta Swit, Iconic MASH actress, dies at 87," and my first thought was Hugh (Helen) Steeply's father's obsession with the show in Infinite Jest. And as his compulsion to watch the show grew, and he scribbled his fan theories on spiral-bound notebooks, so did his need for secrecy. I think I'm bringing this up because I know most of the blog has read IJ and I was trying to relate the idea of keeping things hidden and hushed to the song titles. Can secrecy be a method to maintain control within your world? Was it for Mr. Steeply? Or if you feel that way, have you already lost control?  —Gloria


"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" by the Beatles

from Abbey Road, 1969

"I Want You" by Bob Dylan

from Blonde on Blonde, 1966

Your phone is on the kitchen counter

Along with an open, unfinished bottle of Cabernet Franc 

Your clothes are on the living room floor 

The record you had on stopped playing music about twenty minutes ago

You hear its needle chatter 

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk 

Like the third heartbeat in the room

To match both of yours
        —Gloria

"Modern Love" by David Bowie
from Let's Dance, 1983

"Modern Love" by Geva Alon

from The Wall of Sound, 2007

I think I would have cried real tears when David Bowie died if I had been born in 1969. Instead, his death was mostly just a curiosity to me, and "Changes" was a song performed at my high school graduation. "Modern Love" is a podcast instead of a song I know; a column in the New York Times.

What was modern love like in Biblical times? If it's true that the generations descend in every metric (less hungry, less passionate, less everything) as history unwinds, well, then, the immense strength of the sexual urges of people thousands of years ago would be completely foreign to us. Joseph resists and he goes to jail. Judah relents and he admits his wrongdoing. I doubt I'd ever write a Bible column for this blog.  —Zach


"My Song" by Labi Siffre

from Crying Laughing Loving Lying, 1972

"My Song" by Scarlett O'Connor, Avery Barkley, and Gunnar Scott (performed by Clare Bowen, Jonathan Jackson, and Sam Palladio, respectively)

from The Music of Nashville: Season 3, Volume 2, 2015

Twins is one of my husband's favorite movies, as he is a twin himself. So I came out of blogging hibernation to submit something. After all, summer is notoriously the blogging season. Labi Saiffre's "My Song" was played all summer 2023 as we prepared for little Elise to get here. The Nashville cast version is from a former 2012 version of myself who truly loved an ABC Drama. I think to the point that I will be getting back into scripted dramas from the big channels. Who's in on Doctor Odyssey or heading over to NBC for Chicago Wednesdays?  —Sara

"Old Salt" by Hazlett

from Goodbye to the Valley (Side B) EP, 2024

"Old Salt" by Amusement Parks on Fire

from An Archaea, 2021

Do we really believe that if we let monkeys type away endlessly, with an infinite number of tries, they'd eventually write War and Peace? It seems impossible. But it's probably true. I threw a pair of socks from outside to inside my parents' house last month and they both landed perfectly on the railing, with no intention to do so. I'll never do that again, no matter how hard I try. 

Soon I'll buy a jar of Trader Joe's Himalayan salt and keep it next to me for the rest of my life. Will it ever get old?  —Zach


"September" by Roy Blair
from Cat Heaven, 2017

"September" by Earth, Wind & Fire

from The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire, Vol. 1, 1978

Chart my appreciation for the song "September" through my life and that shit is gonna look like a heart monitor in the cardiac arrest ward of the hospital. I didn't care for it, my high school pep band made me fond of it, overplaying it throughout my young adult years made me despise it, a cartoon movie about a robot and a dog made me think it was one of the greatest songs of all time, and now...

Look, it's cute as hell that my kids think of this as "my song." They know that I love that movie, and they know that the song reminds me of the movie that I love. But they play it too much. I hear "September" every day. And it makes me feel worse about my feelings in a self-reflective way because now it's always prefaced by cute children yelling "it's your song, Daddy!" And I have to play along like I still love this song. Even though it's grating on me. (The song, not the kids, who could never grate.)

Okay, but so what? What's the alternative? Am I really gonna destroy this for them? I would never do that. If they are appreciating the magic of music, the power of a good song, then I will protect that emotion with my fucking life. The alternative is that they grow up and they lose that feeling. That they become teenagers who don't give a fuck about music at all. Maybe that they grow up and think that some terrible song from some shit Post Malone wannabe hack is "good enough" for them. Maybe they'll find themselves tipsily grooving along to some of the worst music of all time at the Big Ass Stadium Tour, convincing themselves that this is art, that this is anything but the lowest common denominator of music.

I hate Post Malone and I hate his music. And so I hate Roy Blair by association. But I don't hate "September," and I don't hate Earth, Wind & Fire. I need to step back and remember that sometimes. That it's a good song and it's just looking a little worse for wear these days due to adorable overplaying. There's a huge fucking difference. And my kids will learn that in time, too. For now: play it one more time for Daddy.  —Joe

"Shake It Off" by Stiff Little Fingers
a single, 1983

"Shake It Off" by Hurry
from Guided Meditation, 2016

Shoutout to Hurry for being the only band with the fucking balls to release a song called "Shake It Off" after that dirty little gremlin took it off the table forever. Shoutout to Stiff Little Fingers for being the only punk band that the crustiest, most punk old lady I ever knew liked on my iPod when she scrolled through it, and for retroactively proving that there are way better songs under this moniker. Shoutout to Mariah Carey for shaking it off before that other chick was out of high school. Shoutout to Spoon, Wilco, DJ Jazzy Jeff, and Mandy Moore for doing their own no-doubt superior versions of "Shake It Off." Shoutout to all the other bands on this Wikipedia list whom I've never heard of, all of whom would CRUSH the shameless pop star, if only they didn't have names that sounds totally made up—Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise, Henry Threadgill, GoGoGo Airheart, Joseph Arthur & the Lonely Astronauts, Michael Martin Murphey, the Blow Monkeys. Shoutout to the best band to ever fucking do it. Shoutout to all the liars and stinky, stinky cheaters of the world who think that Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" is anything less than an embarrassing blotch on an otherwise mediocre career.  —Joe


"Show Me How" by Men I Trust

from Oncle Jazz, 2019

"Show Me How" by Foo Fighters ft. Violet Grohl

from But Here We Are, 2023

I was taking a walk today during a break between the rain, and saw some honeysuckles blooming. They were my grandfather's favorite flower. One of the coolest things is how you can always tell the time of year by the flowers—it's almost a better indicator than the weather. Soon, my dad's favorite flowers will appear along the Pennsylvania roadsides—simple, white daisies and black-eyed Susans. I remember one time when my mom went out huckleberry picking with her brother. She'd parked her car on the side of the road near a clearing where they could walk into the woods. My dad and I had been biking to the lake when we passed her car. He unlocked it with the spare key he had on him, and we filled her Chevy with daisies, cutting handfuls of them from the edge of the highway's shoulder with our pocketknives. Show me how to care and love someone that deeply, even after a lifetime together.  —Gloria

"Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin

from Led Zeppelin IV, 1971

"Stairway to Heaven" by Be Your Own Pet

from Be Your Own Pet, 2006

The difference is on purpose, of course. Everyone knows the Led Zeppelin song. No one knows the Be Your Own Pet song (but if I continue to choose a BYOP song for every single mixtape, maybe they will eventually). Jemina Pearl is basically saying "fuck you" to classic rock. It's taking the piss out of the song in a way that I'm not even sure that you could argue is ironic. It's not clear that Be Your Own Pet gives one shit about Led Zeppelin. There's no references to the iconic song anywhere in their "Stairway to Heaven"'s lyrics, just some hollering about peeing in an ear. 

If you scrolled through an iPod's song in alphabetical order ("if" is hypothetical, who the fuck has an iPod anymore), BYOP's song would arrive first. This was 2006, I gotta imagine that was on their mind when they picked a title. Maybe some bald uncle is scrolling through and accidentally picks the wrong song when he's trying to play one of the seven songs he's heard since high school. 

I don't even hate "Stairway to Heaven." It's a great song. But when I listen to "Stairway to Heaven" (2006), I start having intrusive thoughts about it. Like maybe I hate Led Zeppelin...? Then the song ends and the live version of "Stairway to Heaven" from How the West Was Won plays and I'm back in. I've never asked this, but how can you be your own pet, anyway?  —Joe


"Tangerine" by Tommy Newport

a single, 2023

"Tangerine" by Led Zeppelin

from Led Zeppelin III, 1970

During the week, I keep a note on my phone to shortlist song ideas for the mixtape and write little blurbs when the moment strikes. This week, the title on my phone was "Brothers, twins," which is a reference to the Portlandia skit "Bad Art, Good Walls." As I write this blub, I'm sitting in High Point Cafe in Mount Airy, drinking a latte out of a tangerine-colored cup. It's my regular coffee shop, and I've been coming here at least twice a week since I moved to Philly in 2014. They change out the artwork every month, and last year around this time, there was a photographer whose work would have fit well into this skit, including a blurry dog and the same photograph of a man twice, one in black and white and one in color. As soon as I saw them, I took a photo and sent it to the two people I knew would get the reference with the caption, "We could do a double. Brothers, twins."  —Gloria

"Vertigo" by Deafheaven
from Sunbather, 2013

"Vertigo" by Beach Bunny
from Tunnel Vision, 2025

When you're in a certain mood and you're driving through town and you're, like, ya know, pissed off or whatever, then there's music there to soothe you. I've found over the years that it's not so much the song that you're playing, but that you are simply playing a song with intention. That's key. It's not background music. It's in the forefront. You immerse yourself in the song and you start to feel better because your emotions are lifted off your shoulders and filtered through the good song. Doesn't matter what song. Seriously. Try it. Say you're dizzy with anger and the dizziness reminds you have Jimmy Stewart because of that movie. Vertigo, you remember that one. And you scroll through looking for songs called "Vertigo." You find two. Both pretty recently new (to you). One immaculate power pop from some of the best Gen Z'ers putting in the work today, the other blackgaze so shrill and epic that it feels like a gust of wind on top of the World Trade Center. They do not sound alike, except that, within your gnarled mind, they both achieve the same purpose, and so they must be the same. They are the same. They both help you in your time of need.  —Joe

"Where'd All the Time Go?" by John Vincent III
from Oil EP, 2019

"Where'd All the Time Go" by Kissing Other ppl ft. Rachel Baiman and Viv & Riley
a single, 2025

Multiple people have talked to me lately about—and, I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with the terminology here—having some kind of "open relationship." I asked one person, who is having relationship troubles, and waxes poetic about being attracted to his dancing partners when he goes partner dancing, if he would try that with his currently monogamous significant other. "We're already having problems," he said, "and opening our relationship won't solve them." He's right. I guess it's supposed to add to the relationship that's already secure and good. At least that's how it seems for the people who seem to do it successfully (whatever "success" means). 

There was a time a few months ago that I was in a public space and everyone started yelling "Get down! Get down!" It turned out to be a run-of-the-mill siren that I couldn't hear from inside. People don't usually yell "get down" for sirens. I really thought there was a shooter outside. And as I got down, I thought to myself, "Damn, what a shame that it might all end right now, and I never quit my job." 

Where'd all the time go? To our anxieties, fears, to the gods of social media and to the decisions that we know we have to make but just keep putting off.  —Zach


"365" by Waxahatchee

from Tigers Blood, 2024

"365" by Charli XCX

from brat, 2024

A pair for the cheap seats, two songs from two artists who owned 2024, releasing the best albums of their respective careers, both in the top three of PoYB's Best of 2024 rankings, both featuring a song called "365" that is perhaps the fifth- or sixth-best song on the album. Fuck anyone who has the technical ability and know-how to mash these two songs up but chose not to.

What to say about songs that share the same title but are nothing alike? I don't know. Maybe there is nothing to say. If pressed, I might say something like: there are coincidences in this world that mean something, but they only mean something to you in your mind, and that's where the meaning will stay; that they both bring you back to a certain time in your life and stake their claim in that era and for the rest of your life they will mean something in that way, bring back certain memories, sights and smells, and that if you're lucky to make it past the 2020s and decades into the future, you'll have a dual talisman to rub together and bring back whatever made life so special, so many years ago.  —Joe

NEXT WEEK: "It's Just a Flesh Wound" — Songs about injuries, surgeries, or blood... guys, I'm getting stitches out today (chosen by Pam)