It’s summertime in Chicago: the perfect time for grillin’, chillin’, and One Tree Hillin’. Okay, so I’ve never actually seen One Tree Hill, but it sounded good. Summertime is also the perfect time for great music; and anyone who’s ever seen an outdoor concert knows that certain music just sounds better this time of year. Further, entire albums can have a distinct “summertime” feel. Granted, certain albums, notably anything released by Jimmy Buffet, force the good summer vibes so hard-core that it makes you long for Chicago in February. (I like cheesy tunes as much as anyone, but “Cheeseburger In Paradise” is the musical equivalent of a hangover. It lasts way too long, there’s usually vomiting involved, and you wonder why life can be so cruel at times.) All you Buffet fans who say, “dude, you’ve got to see him live to get it” can relax: I have. The show was okay but the Buffet crowd is weird. I recall seeing a teenager dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shot-gunning his dad’s Miller Light, singing along to every word of “Why Don’t We Get Drunk And Screw.” It’s always a classy scene in Tinley Park.

Every summer, there seem to be a few albums I go back to year after year to serve as my soundtrack to the season. In fairness, all of them are great all year round: only a few have any direct tie to the season. (In some of these cases, I might have gotten into this music in the summertime, and therefore they maintain a direct connection to summer.) Regardless, in the grand tradition of lazy-yet-still-hopefully-entertaining journalism, I now present a list of my favorite summertime albums/CD’s/mp3s/8-tracks to you, gentle Oy! reader.

A few thoughts before I begin.

1) Greatest Hits albums were not allowed while compiling this list. They’re too easy and I feel like including them would be cheating. And I walk around feeling guilty enough as it is.

2) I’ve picked one album from each of the last five decades, to help vary the list; and also because my tastes tend to lie more in the classic rock realm. Truth be told, it still tilts that way. Accordingly, if at any point this month you’ve uttered the phrase, “That song is totally my jam” when Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” comes on the radio, you might not agree with this list. Yeah, I like that song too, but what exactly does “that song’s my jam” even mean? What makes a song your jam? Sounds pretty selfish to me.

3) You may quibble with my argument that certain albums or songs sound more like “summer” than others. Sure, it may appear to be an inherently subjective claim, but please keep in mind that everything I write transcends mere opinion and is actually 100% correct and factual.

With that said, I now present for you the first (and I’m guessing last…)

TJ’S TOP 5 SUMMERTIME ALBUMS:

2000s: Wilco—Sky Blue Sky (2007)
Perhaps not the most daring or complex album by this astonishingly underrated band—certainly, a case can be made for “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” as their “best”— but I don’t think I’ve ever heard an album which better captures the mellow, sunny, laid-back feel of a beautiful summer afternoon in each and every track. As both a songwriter and singer, Jeff Tweedy seems clearly inspired by a beautiful day on every song, and the result is an album that accomplishes the rare feat of being relaxed and “easy” without ever becoming dull. I can’t help but believe that if this album had been released in the 1970’s, it would be one of the best-known albums in rock. But in an era when the pop music chart is dominated by all kinds of auto-tuned awful, this album remains little known outside of the realm of Wilco fans. One listen and you’ll know why that’s the kind of travesty we haven’t seen since the term “hanging chads” was politically pertinent. 
Key Songs: Impossible Germany, Sky Blue Sky, Either Way

1990s: Ben Folds Five—Whatever And Ever Amen (1997)
If there were any justice in the world, the masses would know Ben Folds best songs the way they know the best songs from Elton John and Billy Joel, the two piano rockers to whom Ben is most often compared. As a piano player myself, I have gravitated to Ben Folds ever since I first heard this album in the summer of 1997. Perhaps that’s why it has such a strong summer connotation to me in the (hard-to-believe) 13 years since its release. (My God: thousands of teenagers have been bar/bat mitzvahed since this album was released! How is this possible? Has “Seinfeld” really been off the air that long? Has it been that long since the Bulls were good? Am I really at a point in my life where a call to the “Hair Club For Men” is a viable option?) The upbeat songs really kick, and the ballads are among Ben Folds’ best. He’s made other great records, but no other Ben Folds release feels more perfect for a hot, sunny day than this. (Plus, this record scores major Oy! points for utilizing a klezmer band on the song, “Steven’s Last Night In Town”. L’Chaim.)
Key Songs: Kate, Battle Of Who Could Care Less, Selfless, Cold, & Composed

1980s: TIE: U2—The Joshua Tree (1987), Huey Lewis & The News—Sports (1983)
The 80’s were a strange time for music. It was an era driven by record company executives whose formula to making a hit record was roughly spend lots of money, supplant actual drummers with drum machines, and make sure everyone involved (including the drum machines) had lots of cocaine. There are exceptions, however, including these two albums that were among the most popular of the decade. U2’s “Joshua Tree” is probably their most famous album, and the one that took them from being a great college-radio band to one of the most popular bands of all time. Twenty-three years later, it still holds up as Bono & the Edge’s masterpiece, so it’s no coincidence that the songs have remained among the band’s most enduring. This album makes perfect sense when played around sunset; indeed, when the crickets creep in on the album’s penultimate song, it’s as if all of the colors of summer have emerged from your speakers. Who cares if you’ve heard these songs hundreds of times? You’ve watched the sun set many times too, and that never gets old. Same goes for this album. 
Key Songs: “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”, “With or Without You”, “Running To Stand Still”

I won’t waste your time proclaiming the greatness of Huey’s “Sports” album, lest I sound like the guy in “American Psycho.” (Though, in fairness, I am holding an axe as I type this. Please don’t ask me if I have a rain coat.) I will tell you that it’s the right of any man in their mid-30s to love and appreciate this album and its greatness without having to explain oneself. Granted, the fact that a buddy and I saw Huey perform at Ravinia in the summer of 1996 and had such a good time that we got lost in the Ravinia parking lot for what felt like days, may have something to do with my perhaps overwrought Huey-respect. (That friend, who grew up a few blocks from Ravinia in Highland Park, will be reminded of this for the rest of our lives.) Point is, the album is great, and anyone who tells you it isn’t probably listens to an inordinate amount of Flo Rida. For those of us born around the mid-1970s, it’s a summertime party album. Sad, but true.
Key Songs: “If This Is It”, “Walking On A Thin Line” “Heart Of Rock & Roll”

1970s:  Stevie Wonder—Innervisions (1973)
After The Beatles and Bob Dylan, a great case can be made for Stevie Wonder as being one of the most important artists of all time; an obvious first ballot Hall of Famer. His streak of 1970s classic albums alone puts him on the very short list of all-time greats, but then when you consider the early part of his career, you realize that seemingly everything he ever recorded is a standard.  That’s not easy to do. “Innervisions” is perhaps Stevie’s most political album, one that takes on the urban decay of America, anger about Vietnam, and in one of the best songs on the album, Richard Nixon.

As a musical extension of its politically charged nature, the album deftly portrays a sweltering, humid, summer day in urban America; and it’s not always pretty. One of his mist enduring songs, “Living For The City”, includes a short sketch depicting a wide-eyed country type going to live his dreams in New York City. As he gets off a Greyhound bus, and is immediately (and unknowingly) caught up in the chaos and trouble of street life, the song just sounds boiling hot. That’s not an easy feat to accomplish in a strictly aural medium where the time of year is never explicitly mentioned. But that’s a testament to the brilliance of Stevie, and that’s how magnificent this particular release is. If this isn’t in your collection, it should be downloaded immediately. Put it on during a long, hot day and you’ll know what I mean.
Key Songs: “Golden Lady”, “Living For The City”, “Higher Ground”, “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing”

1960s: The Beach Boys—Pet Sounds (1966)
The Beach Boys, thanks to co-founder Mike Love’s heavy hand (and the absence of the brilliant Brian Wilson), have been reduced to little more than a state fair “oldies” act in the last 20 years; slogging out the same hits year after year to adoring fans who probably should lay off the Big Macs and/or see a dentist.  Don’t confuse that image of the Beach Boys with this, their finest and most accomplished album. It’s telling that after hearing this album in 1966, Paul McCartney felt challenged and inspired enough to come up with an obscure release called “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” (Indeed, McCartney has often remarked that his favorite song of all time is this record’s gorgeous Brian Wilson composition, “God Only Knows.”) For those of you who are rolling your eyes at the prospect of hearing the “Oldies 104.3” friendly-yet-way-overplayed Beach Boys standards, (“Surfin’ USA”, “Help Me Rhonda”, etc…) know that this might be their least hit-filled record. It’s one where the sum of its parts is far greater than its individual songs. (In fact, it wasn’t until many years after its release that it became widely regarded as a “classic,” because at the time of its release it wasn’t deemed as accessible as other Beach Boys releases) The themes of love and heartbreak show that Brian Wilson—who in complete control of this album—had grown up and was beginning to push the musical boundaries which would ultimately drive him INSANE. (That the album was not a huge smash would send Wilson into a depression from which he’d never fully recover.) But it’s the document of a musical genius at work at the top of his game; and its influence is still unquestionably reaching modern bands. (It’s tough to imagine the Fleet Foxes without this record.) Best of all, those delicate harmonies and melodies that were hallmarks of the Beach Boys summer sound are here in large doses, making this a definitive summer listen, and awfully close to musical perfection.
Key Songs: “God Only Knows”, “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”, “Caroline, No”

RUNNERS UP: 
Every single Beatles album (though “The White Album” with its themes rooted in nature, is particularly summery), Bob Marley—“Kaya,” Beastie Boys—“Ill Communication,” Marvin Gaye—“What’s Going On,” Steely Dan—“Katy Lied,” Guster—“Keep It Together,” Led Zeppelin—“IV,” Neil Young—“Harvest,” The Police—“Synchronicity,” Rolling Stones—“Tattoo You,” Van Morrison—“Astral Weeks.”

T.J. Shanoff is a writer, director, and musical director at The Second City. T.J.’s Second City show, “Rod Blagojevich Superstar” will be revived in a limited engagement this August at the  Metropolis Theater  in Arlington Heights.

This morning, I woke up, and my eyes literally did not want to open.  Not out of exhaustion, but because they were so uncomfortably dry.  I attribute it to a combination of excessive A/C to combat this overbearing heat and my LASIK surgery 18 months ago that occasionally leaves me wondering if my eyes have been relocated to the Sahara desert while I’m still in Chicago.

I knew the solution before I even realized the problem.  I stopped at CVS on my way to work and picked up a bottle of eye drops.  I wasn’t paying a lot of attention as I grabbed them, and suffered a mini-bout of sticker shock at the register.  Sixteen dollars.  Ugh.  So I pulled out my debit card and begrudgingly handed it to the cashier while silently cursing at my eyes for being so difficult.

It really sucks that my $16 went to CVS and the jerks that make Systane eye drops, but let’s be honest, my bank account will survive.  When I go to the grocery store on Sunday to pick up food for the week, my card will not be declined.  I will have totally forgotten about this morning’s liquid gold eye drops ($16 for a .667 ounce bottle—imagine if you converted that cost to gallons like gasoline!?).  And in a few months, if my eyes act up and decide to hate me once again, I’ll probably rummage through my purse, wondering where I left those silly drops, and when they don’t appear, I’ll run into CVS again to grab another (expensive) bottle.

I’m lucky.  I know it.  While I certainly didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have never had to worry about where my next meal would come from or whether I could afford my prescription or grocery bill.  Nearly everyone feels broke in college, but my perceived poverty mostly affected my drinking habits (pre-game before the bars) and dietary choices (Out for dinner?  No way!—more like mac and cheese, my college staple).

And even now, with my husband in school full-time—yes, that means no income for two years—we have planned well and have enough cash stashed away so we aren’t frantic when the rent is due.  Sure, we’re not going out to eat as much as we used to and I’m trying to scale back on the shopping, but we’re fine.

Not everyone is that lucky.  And that has never been more apparent to me than in the past three months, since I began my new job at The ARK.  The ARK’s primary mission is to create a safety net for Chicagoland Jews in need by providing vital human services within a framework of Jewish values and laws.  The mission statement is vague, but I can paint a picture of what that looks like.

As I drove past The ARK at 8:45 a.m. to detour to CVS, there was a line six people deep outside the building (we open at 9), waiting to take a number to see the dentist.  Most of them haven’t had the money to see a dentist in years and they aren’t just popping in for the regular old tooth cleaning and cavity check—they are treating infections, receiving free dentures, and having complex procedures.  And they are finally getting in after waiting nearly two months on the waiting list.  (Know any Jewish dentists?  We have about a dozen who volunteer their time in our dental clinic and it’s still not enough to meet the needs of Chicago’s uninsured Jews in need.  Same goes for doctors in the medical clinic!)

As I am typing this article at my desk, there are four volunteers in the food pantry helping clients of The ARK assemble their monthly food packages.  Most of the recipients of food from The ARK are already enrolled in Illinois’ Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) that helps low-income residents buy the food they need for good health.  This governmental aid helps recipients get through about three weeks worth of groceries each month and covers only items that go in your mouth (think about things like toilet paper, shampoo, or diapers for your baby).  The ARK steps in to cover that gap and help our clients stay afloat by providing toiletries, paper goods and nutritious kosher food.  We’re Jews—we feed each other, it’s what we do.

Outside the entrance of the food pantry is a table where we place dozens of boxes of matzah each morning.  Local grocery stores donate it here by the boat-load once Passover ends (because who would really want to eat it when it wasn’t a mandatory holiday requirement?  I’m fairly certain that if I had to make a list of my top three least favorite foods, matzah would be number one).  The Passover Hagaddah describes matzah as lechem onim—the bread of the poor—and it was not until I witnessed the sheer amount of needy Chicagoans who take it home in July to feed their families that I understood why the moniker lechem onim really fits the bill.

Before I worked at The ARK, I imagined The ARK’s clients as elderly Jews and recent immigrants, but what is most baffling is that many of the people who frequent the pantry and the medical clinic look just like you or me—they are recently laid off professionals, elderly Jews who have outlived their retirement savings, mothers with young children, middle-aged suburbanites, and Jews from the former Soviet Union.  They are people from the suburbs and city and from all walks of Jewish life.  Most of them never would have thought that they would ever become a client of The ARK.

And I imagine that many of them never thought they would blink an eye at a $16 price tag on a bottle of eye drops.  Certainly puts life into perspective.