Monday Morning Mixtape 030: Batteries Not Included

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

"Batteries Not Included"

Songs with batteries in the title: either the letter A multiple times in a row, or the letters C, D, R, or V by themselves

chosen by Batts

Spotify

YouTube

"Exhibit C" by Jay Electronica

a single, 2009

Well, here it is, it's the best song Jay Electronica ever wrote and released. "Better in Tune with the Infinite" might have a higher apex as far as songs go, but its 90-or-so seconds of brilliance aren't as cumulative an accomplishment as the three-minute origin story Jay weaves here, sounding like the past, present, and future of rap all at the same time. Of course, time moved on and he did not. He was a stone, not the river, but daggum if the river didn't have to give him a wide berth for a while there.  —Nate


"R U Still There?" by Chris Farren

from Born Hot, 2019

Do people still use those one-letter text message abbreviations? I guess I'm mainly talking about the two featured in the title of this song. "r" for "are" and "u" for "you." I don't really see them too often. Could be that this was only a concern for the older generations and such clichés have become gauche for millennials and younger. It could also be that we've just shifted and use fewer abbreviations ("lol" has survived for a lot of my peers, "wyd" I think is still a running concern?). My theory is that the advent of swipe-texting has made it just as easy, if not easier, to run your finger across the keyboard for "you" as it is to point one pudgy finger at the tiny little box for "u." But my parents and in-laws both obsessively send texts that contain the single letter "k," still, and so maybe my theory is wrong.  —Joe


"C" by Osees

from Smote Reverser, 2018

Osees are fronted by a dude named John Dwyer (no relation to our forlorn Joker pal, as far as I know). This is the eighth name for his band. Some former names: OCS, the Ohsees, the Oh Sees, Thee Oh Sees, Oh Sees. "It seems to aggravate the press, which to me is great," says Dwyer. "I have nothing but contempt for the music press." Let's assume that he's not talking about PoYB, which I'd like to see as more "a cabal of fun amateur music critics" than "the music press." Does it aggravate me? I dunno, I guess a little bit. Only in that I adhere to the general rule that if a band renames themselves, then you retroactively refer to all their previous work as under the new moniker. E.g. "Tik Tok" is a song by Kesha, even though she was known as Ke$ha at the time. E.g. Viet Cong is an album by a band named Preoccupations, even though it was a self-titled release at the time by a band named Viet Cong. And so on. I suppose the same rule would apply to song titles, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it—like perhaps one day I'll see this song on my government-mandated truth social streaming service listed as "See" by The Oh Seas.  —Joe


"D" by Codeine

from Frigid Stars LP, 1991

I know nothing about Codeine. I have no idea if anyone else here has not only heard of them, but might be an avid listener of their music. Sometimes you listen to music out of a sense of obligation. An example would be agreeing to listen to a Sigur Rós album even though you've never knowingly listened to their music before, except that one time they guest-starred on Game of Thrones. Anyway, this is a song I randomly stumbled upon. It's fine.  —Batts

"MY KZ, UR BF" by Everything Everything

from Man Alive, 2010

Everything Everything's debut Man Alive was released in 2010, but the single, "MY KZ, UR BF," released in 2009, is a bold introduction to this band whose innovation felt groundbreaking at the time. The song's intricate structure—driven by jittery synths, complex rhythms, and falsetto vocals—satirizes consumerism, war, and miscommunication. For me, a standout lyric is "It's like we're sitting in a Faraday cage, when the lights all failed." It serves as a good metaphor for the mental state of attempting to shield yourself from petty bullshit while easily ignoring the true catastrophe unfolding around us. I honestly thought the lyric was Fabergé Cage for the longest time (like the jeweled eggs beloved by the czars), and I also like that visual.  —Gloria

"D.C.B.A.–25" by Jefferson Airplane

from Surrealistic Pillow, 1967

This album was my earliest foray into that pure psychedelic rock shit, that San Fran Sound shit. It was one of my earliest albums. Who knows how or why, it just is. After more than two decades with this thing, it took me till I was confronted with writing a blurb for a mixtape about batteries for me to ask myself what the acronym in the title stands for. Don't worry, google has provided a nifty ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE APP at the top of their search results, and this robot, whose word I am taking blindly without double-checking its veracity at all, tells me that the letters are the chord progression contained in the song, with the numbers referring to the numbers in "LSD-25" psychedelics. That tracks enough that I'm not overly concerned that the AI led me astray, but still... I miss the days when I was getting all my false information from stoner cousins and whispers in the schoolyard. Fuck this AI shit.  —Joe


"P.B.C." by Moodymann

from Silence in the Secret Garden, 2003

Legendary DJ and producer Moodymann blends sample-heavy house and techno with jazz, funk, gospel, and disco for a unique sound. His work embodies the essence of the Detroit music scene. I tried to see what "P.B.C." stands for, and came up short. If anyone knows, please let me know in the comments!  —Gloria

"B" by Restorations

a single, 2012

Well, here it is, it's the best song Restorations ever wrote and recorded. Buried in a between-albums double-sided single. Happens more often than you might think. Archers of Loaf hid some of their best songs on an all-time EP. The Gaslight Anthem's greatest work remains a four-song loosie, no disrespect to The '59 Sound. My personal favorite Science Club song is from an EP, will not be linking to it at this time.

Restorations, man, that's a band. The song is a goddamn time machine, too, whips me right back to my shitty apartment at 20th and Fitzwater, right as that place was ending and the next thing was coming. Basements, DIY venues, tallboys, kissing at concerts, hooking up in taxis, buzzed on the bus, going everywhere that dirty city had to offer, for good or for ill, not a kid but still optimistic like one. Incredible that a song can do.  —Nate


"V" by Golden Smog

from Down by the Old Mainstream, 1995

I attended a work conference this week, which featured the obligatory AI session. A moderator did a funny gimmick where he asked ChatGPT to create an image inspired by Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. The machine issued a disclaimer that it could not reproduce copyrighted materials, and then went on to create an exact likeness of the famous lapin and mallard. Interestingly, he did a similar prompt for Spider-Man—including a prompt for a man-spider that looks nothing at all like the vigilante photographer—and the bot refused to comply. I guess the conscientious lawyers at Marvel Corp. got to them. Anyway, this band sounds like an AI generated composite of Springsteen and Thin Lizzy. So I'm down for it!  —Sam

"AAA" by Grandpaboy

from Mono, 2008

I've been listening to and collecting and writing about and thinking about music for a while now, and the part of this hobby that I am undoubtedly the worst at (among many flaws and faults, surely) is knowing the When of music. I constantly have to recheck what year an album comes out, and it constantly surprises me when I have incorrectly assumed that any particular album has come out in a completely different decade. I struggle particularly with canonized artists. Like, if a band has three albums that are widely known as some of the best albums of all time, then in my head I'm assuming that those albums came out a very long time ago and that everyone involved in the creation of those albums is long gone. I know the big albums from the Replacements, of course. Duh. But it blew my mind to learn that Paul Westerberg released an album (under the "Grandpaboy" moniker) in 2008. Honestly, it blew my mind to learn that Paul Westerberg was still alive. I love music, but I am so dumb about it.  —Joe


"12 Times Tables (Whaagwaan)" by Ms. Robinson
from Hip Hop Tables, 2007

This album was my earliest foray into that pure psychedelic rock shit, that San Fran Sound shit. It was one of my earliest albums. Who knows how or why, it just is. After more than two decades with this thing, it took me till I was confronted with writing a blurb for a mixtape about batteries for me to ask myself what the parenthetical word "whaagwaan" meant. Don't worry, google has provided the answer (WITHOUT AI this time, because I guess there weren't enough mentions of the word on the internet for the robot to STEAL WITHOUT CONSENT). This song doesn't show up until the fourth search result. The very first result links me to a "Carribean dictionary," which indicates that the word is Carribean slang for "What's up? What's going on? What is happening?" Fuck, man, I've learned so much from my math teacher Ms. Robinson.  —Joe


"Aaa" by They Might Be Giants

from Glean, 2015

On the spectrum of embarrassing-to-actual-art, this band vacillates in my mind. There are some clever turns of phrases, quality song structures, and good music. But it's all a bit too corny. And my kids really like that science album that was featured on Tiny Tunes many years ago—that's a strike against. I am not mad when They Might Be Giants comes on, but I don't want anyone see me listening either.  —Sam

"Battery in Your Leg" by Blur

from Think Tank, 2003

People who don't know how to play drums can play the opening to "Song 2" (the whoo hoo" song). My coworkers recently have reclaimed the song tonite is a good night [sic] by really leaning into the "whoo hoo" part. "Leaning in" seems to mean making the best of a bad situation. Like this long line at High Point Carpenter Lane where Gloria might also be.  —Sam

"Green Isaac (I)" by Prefab Sprout

from Swoon, 1984

Oh yeah, and a word about batteries. Why don't we all use rechargeable batteries? I'll tell you why. They are a little more expensive but they seem like a good investment, because you have aspirations to use and reuse those little rechargeable AA batteries a hundred times over multiple battery-powered toys and trinkets. But let me tell you something—you're gonna loose them. They are gonna disappear like that. You're gonna pop 'em in some shitty kids toy and then that toy is gonna get buried under a mountain of other, shittier toys, and they'll just be gone, forever. Nothing to charge. Not worth the price. Do your part and buy disposable batteries and fill those landfills and contribute to the inevitable end of civilization, society slowly choked to death by garbage.  —Joe


"VCR" by the xx

from xx, 2009

I already wrote about my love of the xx and how it transports me back to college on the blog. I'm not sure if this was the song that I included on the mixtape previously, but it's so comforting that it doesn't hurt to include it on this one, either.  —Gloria


"R U Mine?" by Arctic Monkeys

from AM, 2013

"Well, are you mine? (Are you mine tomorrow?) / Are you mine (or just mine tonight?) / Are you mine? (Are you mine, mine?)" What does it mean to be someone's? In "R U Mine?", Alex Turner frames belonging as a blurry contract, caught between desire and uncertainty, wondering if a connection is enduring or just a fleeting moment.  —Gloria

NEXT WEEK: "I Got That Summertime, Summertime Sadness" — Summer songs that make you sad (no Lana Del Rey, please) (chosen by Zach)