I have eclectic taste, to put it kindly. Flip through my CD collection and you'll find everything from Harry Connick Jr. to Paul Simon to Aerosmith to Tori Amos to Ian Tyson to Norah Jones to The Cure. But every now and again, I pop in a CD I haven't listened to in a while and it's a rediscovery. Damn this group was GOOD! Why don't we hear more of them (or hear from them anymore)? Why must my radio be filled with whiny emo/garage band crap, or imbecilic hip hop, or sleazy/skanky country? Why can't I flip on DC 101 and hear THESE groups and THESE songs?
Exhibit A: The Donnas. 
Yes, they got radio play a few years ago with "Take It Off," (also made famous by a certain dodgeball playoff game) but it was only played on the erstwhile 99.1 WHFS (R.I.P.). I was just flipping through the stations when I caught it, but I stuck around long enough to find out who it was. I was so hooked by just that one listen that I actually bought the album (Spend the Night, 2002); I very very rarely buy an album unless I'm already familiar with the artist's work (minimum 3 songs). I was not disappointed. The lyrics are simplistic but clever, the music is the original definition of rock - lots of raging guitar and strong drums. I would pop the CD on when I'd had a rough day at work and needed some escapism. Spend the Night is largely, as many complainers have noted, about partying, hooking up, and getting drunk. But it's funny, and (like Blondie before them) it breaks from the all-too-familiar woman-rock (well, not just "rock" - it's across the board...) sound of pining away for bad men who will break or already broke their hearts; instead, "Dirty Denim" and "You Wanna Get Me High" are all about taking control and rejecting pretentious guys. Ah, refreshing. They followed it up with Gold Medal two years later ("Fall Behind Me" was featured in - of all things - a Ford or Chevy commercial) and showed great maturity in their writing, a much more grown-up album both in music and lyrics. On Monday, friends Matt & Michelle gave me their latest album, Bitchin', for Christmas. And oh, it is! The Donnas are singlehandedly trying to bring back arena rock (you remember... Kiss, Def Leppard, Alice Cooper... when the show mattered as much as the song... when bands didn't take themselves so effing seriously...), even down to the 80's metal-style disc art and black leather pants on the cover. I started laughing maniacally when the first track cued up, probably freaking out the other morning rush drivers, but the CD is seven kinds of awesome!
Exhibit B: Fiona Apple.
Apparently Ms. Apple pissed off a lot of people during a certain awards ceremony speech and she's barely been heard from publicly since. Which is too bad because the upshot of her speech was to not mold yourself to the model of celebrities and to actually be authentic and original and true to yourself. I know. I agree. Inflammatory. But I digress. Anyway, I picked up her debut album, Tidal, back in 1997, and I think I was probably too young and immature to really appreciate it, though I listened to it incessantly for months. But I found it again this year and, wow. The music is almost perfectly balanced in all respects, the lyrics are deep and intense. And despite the sound of the song that got her the most radio play back in '97 ("Sleep to Dream"), she's not a manhater, and in fact spends most of the album alternately beating herself up and trying to protect herself from her own instincts. Friends Ryan & MaryKate got me Extraordinary Machine for Christmas and, while it's very different from Tidal, it's still outstanding. More produced (was expecting that) and I think the music is too loud behind her (and a little too much jazz flute in places I don't think it needs to be), but the lyrics are still written with the same care and passion and introspection. And the title track has been happily running through my head ever since.
Exhibit C: Ben Folds (and/or Five).
Roommate Laura in college had Whatever and Ever Amen from Ben Folds Five, and I bless her and think of her every time I play it. In high school, we all heard "Brick" but only a handful knew what it was about (I was not one of them), and now that I do too, it's the only song I can't listen to on the entire album because I get teary. I've never had the misfortune to experience the subject of the song, but Ben writes with such intensity that you ache for the people it's about. He can write in any style you want (I direct you to the surprising "Steven's Last Night in Town" in 40's swing). He can express the irony in the everyday better than just about any other songwriter I've ever heard ("All is Fair"), fights for the eventual victory of the awkward geek in all of us ("One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces"), describes internal turmoil ("Smoke" and "Missing the War" in particular), and sometimes just lays it all on the line ("Song for the Dumped"). His solo effort (Rockin' the Suburbs) was a little rough around the edges (a bit too repetitive in both theme and title for "Carrying Cathy" and "Losing Lisa," which might not have offended my sensibilities so much if they weren't back to back) but there are some very personal gems ("The Luckiest" is essentially a love letter to his wife, and you can almost hear him talking to his infant son in "Still Fighting It") and his crafted talent is still evident in every note and syllable.
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