Oh, Manchester, So Much To Answer For

last night, I picked up a copy after all these years of the smithereens' 1995 blown to smithereens: the best of. utterly fucking superb from start to finish with nary a let-up. for the ten years ending in '95, the smithereens were (and are) one of my favorite bands. they made one burnished-sad power-pop/rock gem after another, starting with the indie beauty and sadness ep in '83 (er, I guess that'd be 12 years - anywho, I didn't hear that until after catching on to their especially for you debut full in '86). one of the few overtly '60s-influenced bands I've ever really loved, the smithereens were equally in debt to the brill building tradition of songwriting (best lyric, from "a girl like you": "first love/heartbreak/tough luck/big mistake/what else can you do?") and the who's tradition of whomp!. there was never anything particularly fancy there (apart, at time, from pat dinizio's stunning lyrics of regret and heartbreak) - they were a classic meat'n'potatoes guitars-bass-drums quartet who simply did their business, had a beer with you, and went on. my personal fave, '88's green thoughts, is represented here by three songs, all tiny masterpieces: "only a memory," "house we used to live in," and "drown in my own tears," the last an absolute triumph of beefy riffs and sad-but-not-angsty words ("maybe I won't be afraid to love somebody new/maybe I can open up my heart, then I won't drown in my own tears"). it nearly makes me tear up. the greatest thing about the smithereens, however, was their uncanny knack for marrying such downcast lyrics with upbeat music - you're sad, but it doesn't feel so bad. in fact, you kinda feel a little better for hearing 'em. and that's worth plenty.