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    A (Sad) Playlist for the 2023 New York Mets

    Fifteen songs that tell the tale of a rough season.It’s impossible for Mr. Met to look sad, but trust us, he would at this point in the season if he could.Frank Franklin Ii/Associated PressDear listeners,This week, there has been joy neither in Mudville nor in Queens — home of the New York Mets, a team enjoying a catastrophically disappointing 2023 season.The Mets began the year with high hopes for a deep postseason run and with an even higher payroll (somewhere near $350 million before luxury tax payments, making them the most expensive baseball team in history). But after Tuesday’s trade deadline, at which point the Mets had a 50-55 win-loss record, the organization all but gave up on 2023, trading away most of their best pitchers and a few sluggers to boot, in exchange for a bunch of admittedly exciting young prospects who will nonetheless probably not blossom until at least (gulp) 2025. The remaining Mets responded by losing three games in a row to the Kansas City Royals, currently one of the worst teams in M.L.B., but also — a little more salt in the wound, please — the very team to which they lost the World Series in 2015.Suffice to say, I’ve not been listening to a lot of happy music the past few days.In his highly entertaining 2021 book “So Many Ways to Lose: The Amazin’ True Story of the New York Mets — The Best Worst Team in Sports,” the journalist Devin Gordon writes, “There is a difference between being bad and being gifted at losing, and this distinction holds the key to understanding the true magic of the New York Mets.” Yet again, the Mets have fulfilled that reputation and somehow found a novel way to fail, in the process inventing an entirely new flavor of pain to inflict upon its fan base. It’s honestly kind of impressive.As any librettist or opera composer knows, some tragedies are so grand that they must be expressed in music. And though I am but a humble newsletter writer, I know this, too. So here it is: a playlist for the 2023 Mets.You will not hear Timmy Trumpet (the man behind the triumphant entrance music for our closer, who was injured in freakish fashion in March) on this playlist. You will hear the Smiths, as the 2023 mood is closer to sumptuous anguish. You’ll also hear classics from the Who, David Bowie and Talking Heads, alongside newer songs from Palehound and the long-suffering Mets fans Yo La Tengo.You don’t need to root for the Mets, or even like baseball, to listen to this playlist. Actually, if you don’t, it will work as a primer to help you understand the complicated tale of woe that is the Mets’ 2023 season. But if it somehow compels you to devote yourself to the orange and blue, I offer you a hearty welcome. Misery loves company.Listen along on Spotify as you read.1. The Smiths: “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”Though it is possible to describe the psyche of a Mets fan in a playlist comprised entirely of Smiths songs — “Panic,” “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want,” “You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby” — the title of this jangly ditty from 1984 sums things up pretty succinctly. (Listen on YouTube)2. Peggy Lee: “Big Spender”When the billionaire hedge fund manager Steve Cohen bought the Mets in 2020, he became the wealthiest owner in the M.L.B. Going into the 2023 season, he clearly wasn’t afraid to spend, or pay the luxury tax. As a result, he assembled the most expensive roster in baseball history. What could possibly go wrong? I’m sure Peggy Lee, in this snappy 1966 rendition of a showstopper from “Sweet Charity,” couldn’t possibly guess! (Listen on YouTube)3. The Magnetic Fields: “Come Back From San Francisco”“Come back from San Francisco, it can’t be all that pretty when all of New York City misses you,” Shirley Simms sings on this 1999 song by the Magnetic Fields — a sentiment shared by some New Yorkers earlier this season when former Mets and current Giants like Michael Conforto, J.D. Davis and Wilmer Flores all got off to hot starts just as the Mets’ bats started going cold. (It’s also a sentiment plenty of older New Yorkers still feel about the Giants organization itself.) (Listen on YouTube)4. The Big Bopper: “Chantilly Lace”At least Pete Alonso was hitting some very big bops at an astounding pace — 20 home runs by the end of May. As the Big Bopper would say, “Hello, baaaaby!” (Listen on YouTube)5. David Bowie: “Boys Keep Swinging”Indeed they did — whether or not they were making contact with the ball. If only they were having as much fun as Bowie on this 1979 glam-pop gem. (Listen on YouTube)6. The Who: “The Kids Are Alright”An undeniable bright spot for the 2023 team has been the offensive prowess of a group of very young rookies who earned the nickname “The Baby Mets”: the 23-year-old infielders Mark Vientos and Brett Baty; and the 21-year-old catcher Francisco Álvarez, who at press time had hit more home runs this year than any other catcher in baseball. The kids are all right! (Listen on YouTube)7. Palehound: “Eye on the Bat”“Suckers will all tell you to keep watching for the ball, but we know better than that,” Palehound’s El Kempner sings. “Keep your eye on the bat.” Good song from a recently released album I’ve been enjoying; bad advice for the New York Mets. (Listen on YouTube)8. SZA featuring Ty Dolla Sign: “Hit Different”I began to wish they would. (Listen on YouTube)9. The Everly Brothers: “June Is as Cold as December”Brrr. The Mets won just seven games and lost 19 in June — a month so disastrous that The Athletic’s Tim Britton wrote an article asking, “Did the Mets just complete their worst month in franchise history?” This being the Mets, though, he found plenty of others, writing, “Note that this is a non-exhaustive list. There are other very bad months that did not make the cut.” (Listen on YouTube)10. Smokey Robinson & the Miracles: “A Fork in the Road”Another silver lining, though, was the 30-year-old Japanese pitcher Kodai Senga — making his M.L.B. debut this season with the Mets — and his elusive signature pitch, the “ghost fork,” named for the way it suddenly disappears from the strike zone. (Listen on YouTube)11. Yo La Tengo: “Fallout”It wouldn’t be a Mets playlist without some Yo La Tengo. The long-running New Jersey indie-rock band is named after a great, if possibly apocryphal, story involving the former Mets Richie Ashburn and Elio Chacón, and this year the band’s Ira Kaplan threw out the first pitch at a Mets game. The title of its latest album, which features the fuzzy single “Fallout,” also expresses a sentiment that is relatable to many Mets fans: “This Stupid World.” (Listen on YouTube)12. Ace Frehley: “New York Groove”The Mets play this stomping, irresistibly catchy glam-rock tune — written by the British producer Russ Ballard, but popularized by the native New Yorker Ace Frehley — after every home game that they win. So for a hopeful moment in July, when the team kicked off the month with a six-game winning streak, it was a song that actually got some play. (Listen on YouTube)13. Talking Heads: “Burning Down the House”But it wasn’t enough. As the trade deadline neared, the team began selling off some of its most valuable assets: First, the closer David Robertson and the starting pitcher Max Scherzer. Then, at the trade deadline on Tuesday, they just started burning down the house. Baseball’s most expensive roster ever had officially gone bust. Here’s your ticket; pack your bags. (Listen on YouTube)14. George Strait: “All My Ex’s Live in Texas”And now ours do, too: Scherzer has joined Jacob deGrom on the Texas Rangers, while Justin Verlander has returned to his former team, the Houston Astros. George Strait, I now know how you felt when you recorded this 1987 hit. (Listen on YouTube)15. Hot Chocolate: “You Sexy Thing”And yet … at least technically, the season is not over. Rooting for the Mets means ya gotta believe in miracles. (Listen on YouTube)All the fans are true to the orange and blue,LindsayThe Amplifier PlaylistListen on Spotify. We update this playlist with each new newsletter.“A (Sad) Playlist for the 2023 New York Mets” track listTrack 1: The Smiths, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”Track 2: Peggy Lee, “Big Spender”Track 3: The Magnetic Fields, “Come Back From San Francisco”Track 4: The Big Bopper, “Chantilly Lace”Track 5: David Bowie, “Boys Keep Swinging”Track 6: The Who, “The Kids Are Alright”Track 7: Palehound, “Eye on the Bat”Track 8: SZA featuring Ty Dolla Sign, “Hit Different”Track 9: The Everly Brothers, “June Is as Cold as December”Track 10: Smokey Robinson & the Miracles, “A Fork in the Road”Track 11: Yo La Tengo, “Fallout”Track 12: Ace Frehley, “New York Groove”Track 13: Talking Heads, “Burning Down the House”Track 14: George Strait, “All My Ex’s Live in Texas”Track 15: Hot Chocolate, “You Sexy Thing”Bonus tracksIf you are curious how I came to devote my life to the perpetual misery that is Mets fandom, you’re in luck — I wrote an essay on that very topic last year, for the briefly shuttered and soon-to-be-revived magazine Bookforum. Viva la Mets! Viva la Bookforum!Also, I mentioned Devin Gordon’s delightful Mets book, so I would be remiss if I did not also recommend Gordon’s equally delightful 2018 New York Times Magazine profile of the Mets announcers Gary Cohen, Keith Hernandez, and Ron Darling, “the Magi of Mets Nation.”And if you’re looking for new music, this week’s Friday Playlist features tracks from Mitski, Wilco, Jorja Smith and many more. More

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    Andy Rourke, Bassist for the Smiths, Dies at 59

    His sinewy bass lines were a vital — if, as one writer put it, “habitually unsung” — part of the influential British rock band’s success.Andy Rourke, the bass player who provided the muscle and drive behind the darkly poetic musings of the Smiths, one of the most influential bands of the 1980s, died on Friday in Manhattan. He was 59.A representative said he died of pancreatic cancer at Memorial Sloan Kettering Center.While Mr. Rourke — along with the band’s drummer, Mike Joyce — received a tiny share of the accolades (and revenues), his sinewy bass lines provided both heft and melodicism behind Morrissey’s lachrymose vocals, which bounced between elegiac and funereal, and Johnny Marr’s intricate, layered guitar work, which could be almost symphonic in its complexity.“The nature of the music that we were playing in the Smiths meant that the sound needed a bit more of a kick,” Mr. Rourke said in a 2019 interview with Bass Player magazine. “And because it’s me,” he added, “every time I do something, I do it big.”Mr. Rourke’s playing, influenced by Paul McCartney and John Entwistle of the Who, was always “habitually unsung,” David Cavanagh, an Irish journalist, wrote in 1993, but it was also “incontrovertibly top drawer.”Discerning listeners understood Mr. Rourke’s value. Morrissey once said that Mr. Rourke was good enough to have been in Elvis Presley’s band. “He didn’t ever know his own power, and nothing that he played had been played by someone else,” Morrissey wrote in a tribute on his website after Mr. Rourke’s death.Mr. Rourke’s nimble, often effervescent bass lines were often foregrounded in landmark songs like “This Charming Man,” “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now” and “Cemetery Gates,” all of which transformed the Smiths into a cult act in the United States and a chart-topping group in their home country.The Smiths — from left, Mr. Rourke, the singer Morrissey, the guitarist Johnny Marr and, in the back, the drummer Mike Joyce — in performance in 1984.Getty ImagesAndrew Michael Rourke was born in Manchester, England, on Jan. 17, 1964. He met Mr. Marr at school in Manchester in 1975.“We were best friends, going everywhere together,” Mr. Marr wrote in a recent Instagram post, adding, “I soon came to realise that my mate was one of those rare people that absolutely no one doesn’t like.”The Smiths formed in Manchester in 1982. The group had a couple of bassists before Mr. Marr brought in his childhood friend.In a 2012 interview with The Guardian, Mr. Rourke recalled playing his first show with the band in a tiny gay club. The Smiths always “rehearsed to death,” he said, so it was not surprising when they quickly soared in popularity.As they rose to prominence, the four Smiths were inseparable. “We were a gang,” he told Mojo. “A very tight band of brothers. When we were at our peak, nobody could penetrate that.” Within two years, the Smiths had their first Top 10 hit in Britain with “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.”But success brought problems, including a heroin habit that Mr. Rourke developed. “You start getting a bunch of money and you don’t know what to do,” he recalled in a 2011 interview. “You start spending it on drugs.”In 1986, Morrissey fired Mr. Rourke, reportedly via postcard, because of his drug use. But he soon rejoined the band.The Smiths broke up for good in 1987 after releasing four albums. Two years later, Mr. Rourke and Mr. Joyce, the drummer, began legal proceedings against their former bandmates, claiming that they had been equal partners and should have been paid a bigger split of the royalties. (They had been given only 10 percent.)Mr. Rourke eventually dropped his case after being offered 83,000 pounds (about $100,000). But Mr. Joyce went to court and a judge found in his favor, saying that Morrissey should pay him compensation of around a million pounds, according to news reports at the time.As late as 2007, Mr. Rourke told the BBC that the Smiths’ breakup “still smarts a bit.” Still, not long after the split, he laid down bass tracks for solo singles by Morrissey like “Interesting Drug” (1989) and “Last of the Famous International Playboys” (1990).Post-Smiths, he also played on albums by Sinead O’Connor and the Pretenders and toured with Badly Drawn Boy. In 2009, Mr. Rourke moved to New York, where he performed at clubs with the D.J. Olé Koretsky in a duo called Jetlag, which evolved into a band called D.A.R.K. when they enlisted Dolores O’Riordan of the Cranberries.Information on survivors was not immediately available.Long after his Smiths days, Mr. Rourke was asked about the origins of his melodic style. “It was just my love of bass playing,” he said.“If I wasn’t eating or in the bath,” he added, “I had a bass in my hand.” More

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    Overlooked No More: Ruth Polsky, Who Shaped New York’s Music Scene

    She booked concerts at influential nightclubs in the 1980s, bringing exposure to up-and-coming artists like the Smiths and New Order.This article is part of Overlooked, a series of obituaries about remarkable people whose deaths, beginning in 1851, went unreported in The Times.In the late 1970s and early ’80s, New York City’s nightclub scene was vibrant and daring, attracting an eclectic mix of creative types like artists, writers and musicians. It was also predominantly run by men.A notable exception was Ruth Polsky, who arranged concerts for cutting-edge rock artists, like the Smiths and New Order, at the influential Manhattan clubs Hurrah and Danceteria, whose regulars included Madonna and Jean-Michel Basquiat.Polsky had a knack for finding young talent, and helped both clubs earn a reputation for debuting new artists. Early in their careers, British bands like the Cure and the Specials played American shows at Hurrah, and Madonna performed one of her first-ever live shows at Danceteria, in 1982.Polsky’s choice of artists was diverse. She booked guitar-driven bands like Echo and the Bunnymen, influential minimalists like Young Marble Giants and challenging genre-busters like Einstürzende Neubauten and the Birthday Party, fronted by Nick Cave.There were potent, female-led groups, including Au Pairs, a politically-fuelled band from Birmingham, England, and kitschy Pulsallama from New York. She was an early supporter of Ru Paul, who performed with bands in the 1980s. (Ru Paul was occasionally referred to by a friend as Ru Polsky.)Polsky also arranged the United States premieres of alternative rock bands, many from the United Kingdom, including New Order, the Psychedelic Furs and Simple Minds, whose music eventually became mainstream soundtracks of the 1980s.“This is the place where anything goes,” Polsky said about Danceteria in a British television interview in the mid-1980s, “from oompah bands to Diamanda Galás to the funkiest thing happening on the street.”Her inclusive approach welcomed a clientele from all over the city, one that was racially diverse and of varying socioeconomic backgrounds. She turned her clubs into a hub for nonconformists, some of whom, like the actress Debi Mazar and the Beastie Boys, became famous.“It was kind of weirdos unite,” said Cynthia Sley, a member of Bush Tetras, whom Polsky booked several times. “Everybody who was an outcast from regular society would converge down there.”Her interactions with musicians went well beyond a professional obligation.“She was good at her job, and she had people power,” Bernard Sumner, a member of the band New Order, said in an interview. “She could handle people and charm them over.”And her dealings with performers didn’t end when the shows were over; she often invited them to her West Houston Street apartment to mingle with other musicians.Danceteria in 1980. The nightclub was a vibrant, daring scene that attracted creative types like artists, writers and musicians.Allan Tannenbaum“It was like a writers’ salon, but for punk rockers,” said Hugo Burnham, a founding member of Gang of Four, a taut British band who played several shows that Polsky booked. “She was the punk rock Dorothy Parker.”Her style was enhanced by the sort of devotion a loyal friend would show. It was a “mixture of strength and a kind of sisterly, kind of motherly instinct,” said Johnny Marr, a former member of the Smiths, whose first American show was at Danceteria.“You could stay up until 4 o’clock in the morning with her,” he added, “but then she would make sure that you went out and had a decent breakfast and a warm coat.”Part of her drive came from frequently being the only woman in the room, interacting with managers, booking agents and club owners who were mostly men.“She wanted to show that she could make a difference as a woman in a very male-dominated world,” said Howard Thompson, a former record company executive and a friend of Polsky’s.Ruth Rachel Polsky was born on Dec. 5, 1954, in Toms River, N.J., to Louis and Bertha (Rudnick) Polsky. Her father was an egg distributor, her mother a homemaker. From a young age, Ruthie, as she was called, was an excellent student. By the time she was a teenager, her love of books and writing was matched only by an obsession with music. Her taste, even then, was precocious: In high school, she saw the Doors and Led Zeppelin play live.Polsky attended Clark University in Massachusetts, where she wrote about music for the school paper. She earned a degree in English literature in 1976 and began writing for Aquarian Weekly, an alternative newspaper in New Jersey, covering up-and-coming music as a contributing editor. She also worked at a magazine publishing company.In her writing, she championed innovative sounds and encouraged fans to support them.“Right now, people need to dance,” she wrote in Aquarian Weekly in 1979, “not the well-oiled, machine-like dancing of a bland, conformist half-decade, but the individualistic style of a crazy new era.”That year, she started booking bands at Hurrah, a club near Lincoln Center, alongside another well-known promoter, Jim Fouratt. Three years later, she moved to Danceteria, a multilevel space in the Flatiron district.Polsky, left, at a party 1982. After the club shows she had booked, she’d often invite the performers over to her Houston Street apartment to mingle with other musicians. “It was like a writers’ salon, but for punk rockers,” one musician said.Howard ThompsonBefore long her impact began reaching well beyond New York City. In 1981, Polsky took a handful of American bands, including Bush Tetras, to London to perform for the first time in England. The show was called “Taking Liberties From New York.”In the United States, bands were able to use the money they earned from the concerts Polsky had arranged to go on national tours, furthering their exposure and success.“People in Columbus and Madison and Seattle and Minneapolis could see these bands that normally wouldn’t be able to tour America,” said Robert Vickers, a former member of the Go-Betweens, an Australian band that played several shows arranged by Polsky. “It made it possible for these cutting-edge bands, the post-punk bands, that Americans in these smaller cities would never have seen except for Ruth.”By the summer of 1986, Ms. Polsky had started her own company, S.U.S.S. — for Solid United States Support, a nod to a colloquial British term for astutely figuring something out — to help artists from abroad navigate their careers in America. She was managing bands, too, and writing a memoir about her nightlife adventures.Polsky died on Sept. 7, 1986, when she was hit by an out-of-control taxi outside the Limelight, a Manhattan club where she had arranged for one of her clients, Certain General, to play that evening. She was 31.“It just seemed like such an awful waste,” Mr. Sumner said, “because she was on an upward trajectory.”As alternative music was gaining in popularity, that path might well have included working directly with superstars, her ultimate goal.“She had the smarts, she had the passion, she had the good taste and she had the nurturing qualities,” said Mr. Marr of the Smiths. “She was tough and really ticked all the boxes to have been really successful with a band.” More