I don’t have a particular reason for writing this post today, except that I’ve been meaning to write it for a while. In late 2010, I had the good fortune to see this embedded performance of William Finn’s Elegies, a song cycle he wrote about the people in his life who had passed away. Finn—who also wrote Falsettos and The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee—is my favorite musical theatre composer because his lyrics burst with unusual details that make the characters feel remarkably alive. Matched with his complex-yet-accessible melodies, his words make each song feel like missives from a peculiar, beautiful world.

Elegies is especially rich with songs like that. In “Infinite Joy,” for instance, the singer reflects on the philosophy of a departed loved one:

“Goodness is rewarded.
Hope is guaranteed.
Laughter builds strong bones.
Right will intercede.
Things you said, I often find I need.”

But more than that philosophy, the singer reflects on how easy that philosophy has become to adopt—how much and how potently it makes the drab daily world seem astonishing. And that’s where the specificity elevates the lyrics:

“I see the world through your eyes:
I taste lemon on my lips.
I marvel at the sailing ships
of well-dressed girls and boys.
You told me life
has infinite joys.”

Lemon on the lips. Such a distinct sensation. Marveling at beautiful children on a ship. Such a lovely thing to imagine marvelling at. And it tells you so much about this person who has died. It makes them stand just behind your chair.

And brilliantly, the song is also vague enough to let us fill in the rest. We don’t even know the gender of this person, but we know that he or she found bottomless happiness everywhere, even in the taste of lemon.

That’s something a lot of composers miss, I think. A song like this doesn’t work if you’re just reciting everything you and your lover bought at the market yesterday. Even in its specificity,the song has to give the listener’s mind something to do. It has to tantalize, not delineate, our imagination.

And that leads me to the one-two punch of “14 Dwight Ave., Natick, Massachusetts” and “When the Earth Stopped Turning,” two songs that tell one continuous story. Watch this clip—from the performance I saw at Pace University in Manhattan—and see if you’re as moved by these songs as I always am. (Forgive the home video quality.)

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The Oscar nominations are being announced tomorrow morning, and unlike most recent years, I’m not really jazzed about the frontrunners. I mean, I liked The Artist well enough, and I didn’t hate The Descendants, though that little brat of a teenage boy sure pulled me out of the story every five seconds. When a film has a character that is so obviously inserted into scenes just to let the filmmaker make a joke or a point, then I get annoyed. (For an excellent report on that movie’s limitations, check out Sarah Bunting’s write-up.)

Where was I? Oh, right. Frontrunners. I’ve also been up front about why The Help left me frustrated and Midnight in Paris made me wish Woody Allen hadn’t soured his sweet little films by indulging his desire to scorn Republicans.

There were, however, many films I enjoyed in 2011. To celebrate them, I’ve created a dream Oscar ballot for Best Picture and the acting categories. What’s on your fantasy list?

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Last night, while I was waiting for Top Chef, I decided to watch Devil on HBO On Demand. In case you don’t know this masterpiece, it’s mostly set in the elevator of a Philadelphia office building. The elevator gets stuck, and one by one, the five people in it are murdered. Because one of the passengers is Satan.

This is a pretty good idea for a movie—a supernatural update on the claustrophobic suspense of Lifeboat and other such tales. But the good idea gets trampled by the execution.

Consider that we learn about the Devil’s presence from a building security guard who is watching the elevator madness unfold on closed-circuit television. He proves the Devil’s nearby by dropping a piece of toast on the floor. When it lands jelly-side down, he says, “See? When he’s around, things always go wrong. The toast lands jelly-side down.”

This is not played as a joke.  Jellied carpeting is considered proof that El Diablo is in on the grounds.

I could spend more time dissecting this movie’s awfulness—what’s up, African-American with a criminal past and Hispanic gentleman who believes in “spirits!”—but the fact is, I wasn’t surprised it was awful. You see, it was executive produced and based on a story by M. Night Shayamalan. His name alone signals hackery.

That wasn’t always so, of course. There was a time when Shayamalan was a Golden God in Hollywood and with audiences. But now, he’s destroyed that goodwill.

And that got me thinking: Who else has pissed away the love they so rightfully earned? Who else is close to doing so?

I’m pleased to present this round-up of goodwill squanderers. Can you think of any more? Let’s discuss!

(Caveat: They have to have ruined themselves through their work and not through their tabloid behavior. Lindsay Lohan and Mel Gibson are not who we’re talking about here.)

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On today’s installment of the Extra Hot Great podcast, I recount how an episode of Roseanne sparked one of the most embarrassing things that has ever happened to me.

Along with the rest of the team, I also discuss Joyful Noise, Mark Wahlberg, and several other high-octane topics.

Do go listen… and enjoy my shame!

It’s not just that I’m a Wikipedia junkie. It’s more than that.

Although I am a Wikipedia junkie. At 12:07 this morning, I reflexively went to the site to look up some random bit of trivia—the chart peak of a Sting single, to be exact, even though I have a book with the same information in it—and was confronted with the site’s day-long blackout. Along with many other sites (Google, Wired, etc.), the English-language version of Wikipedia is shutting down to protest the Stop Online Piracy Act and the Protect IP Act, the House and Senate bills, respectively, that are being forwarded as a way to protect media companies from piracy. Many people in the web community are fearful that these bills will curtail all sorts of free information that has become commonplace online. With the weight of a federal law behind it, for instance, a record company could easily shut down YouTube for allowing members to upload songs.

I sympathize with both sides: I understand why artists, especially, wouldn’t want their work disseminated for free when they are trying to make a living from it, but I also understand how deeply the free flow of online information has changed the world.

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[#40-31; #30-21; #20-11] [Last year's countdown]

Here they are: The best of the best, the most of the most, the… you know.

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[#40-31;#30-21] [Last year's countdown]
The countdown continues! Get ready for some devastating ballads and a few happy songs that are so happy you’ll probably freak with all the happiness.

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[#40-31] [Last year's countdown]
Welcome back! Let’s keep things rolling with some very, very cute boys. Oh, and some good songs, too…

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[See Last Year's Countdown]

Now that I’ve absorbed the music I bought with Christmas gift cards, I am ready to anoint my top 40 songs of 2011. As you know, this countdown is mandated by my DNA, so I am delighted to once again fulfill my genetic destiny.

2011 delivered a lot of great ballads, but curiously, the first leg of the countdown is entirely uptempo. So think of this as your dance warmup, y’all! Headbands and torn sweatshirts… activate!

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My official music round up will come in early January, after I sort through the albums I get for Christmas. For now, though, I have call your attention to a pair of phenomenal new songs and one extremely disappointing single from a very talented star.

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