Archive for June, 2008

‘Cloudbusting’ - Kate Bush, 1985

Monday, June 30th, 2008

I’ll always have my Mam to thank for getting me into Kate Bush, and ‘Cloudbusting’ was always my favourite song of hers, ever since I first saw the video for it all those years ago. Kate Bush’s videos are fairly crazy (see ‘Babooshka’, ‘Hounds of Love’ and ‘The Man With a Child In His Eyes’ (always thought that title was a bit weird)), but this just about tops them all.

I only know a couple of songs off the Hounds of Love album, but they’re all of a very high standard. My mate reckons Kate Bush is ‘crazy’, in a Bjork/PJ Harvey/Tori Amos type way, as in crazy in an extremely creative way. I have to agree, and there’s no doubting that she puts a lot into her music.

‘Cloudbusting’ appears to be about a machine that the narrator’s father has invented that can make it rain. The government gets wind of this, and tries to put a stop to the mad professor. The story seems to be based on Wilhelm Reich, who developed a similar machine and was targeted by the FBI for his troubles.

The music is not obviously rooted in the mid-’80s. The cello used in the song is brilliant, almost up there with ‘Eleanor Rigby’ for the use of unsentimental strings in a pop song. Apart from that, it’s a driving drumbeat that holds up the cello. Kate sings some crazy lines, a personal favourite being “You’re like my yo-you, that glows in the dark, what made it special, made it dangerous, so I bury it”, anyone?

But the song also seems to make points about women emerging from the shadows to make their mark on the arts, as well as the bond between parent and child, and the individual’s helplessness and fragility when the authorities come chasing.

And the video itself is a masterpiece. The venerable Donald Sutherland plays Bush’s father, and her own boyish, mousy haircut is a sight to behold. It’s a story within itself, and watching it on YouTube took me back over 20 years instantly. Watch it and enjoy.

‘I Am Trying To Break Your Heart’ - Wilco, 2002

Friday, June 27th, 2008

I saw Wilco in Vicar Street recently, and was very impressed. I landed just as they were starting into this number, which is the first song off their Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album, which sort of pushed Wilco from alt.country or Americana cultdom into the mainstream. There’s an interesting story behind the making of this album that’s dealt with in the documentary with the same name as this song - if you like Wilco (or Spinal Tap moments) it’s worth a watch.

This song is one of the best album-openers of them all, up there with ‘Airbag’, ‘Sunday Morning’, ‘Tangled Up In Blue’ and the other rightly-revered Track Ones. The song blurs into focus with what sounds like the revving of an engine that segues into ringing bells, the metronomic clicking of a drum, and some piano, before Jeff Tweedy’s voice groans the lines:

“I am an American aquarium drinker,
I assassin down the avenue…”

One of the best opening lines in a song ever. The lyrical theme of this song is of alcohol and feelings for a woman. While many of the lyrics are oblique, there’s an obvious feeling that the narrator is trying to decipher his feelings for someone, and that the drinking he’s doing isn’t proving to be any help.

Despite the melancholic and highly personal theme, the music is actually quite charming. The acoustic guitar is insistent, pushing the song on when at times it’s on the verge of collapsing. Also, there’s a really nice piece played halfway through the song, that moves the musical context firmly into good-ole-boy country ‘n’ western territory.

I’ve tried to find a studio version of the song on YouTube, but to no avail. If you can, download the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album, or even just this song. A lot of the stuff on this song can’t faithfully be reproduced live, but here’s a great live version of the song anyway.

‘Get Miles’ - Gomez, 1998

Thursday, June 26th, 2008

Before I start writing about this song I have to make a submission - I LOVE GOMEZ! There, I’ve said it. Without question they are my favourite English band from the last decade - and I’m looking at you Radiohead, not that there is anything wrong with Radiohead of course. ‘Get Miles’ is the first song from the excellent debut album, which won the Mercury Music Prize for best newcomer in 1998.

Vocal duties in Gomez are generally shared by Ian Ball and Ben Ottewell, with Mr. Ottewell having the lion’s share of duties on this one, which was a good choice as his voice is what carries this song for me. I remember seeing Gomez a few years ago at the Ambassador and they opened the set with this song and it blew me away as he belted out this song and definitely set the tone for what is one of my favourite live shows in recent years (I am biased of course! ).

The song itself is one of desperation in life and wanting to get away from it all, hence the title of the track and also evident in the chorus itself “Get Miles Away” x3. Literally I think he’s just sick of the whole world he’s living in, from his home country “I love this island man but this island is killing me” to the city he lives in I Love this city man but this city’s killing me” to the world itself - “I love this planet man but this planet’s killing me”. and wants to get the hell out of there “Gonna leave everything I know gonna head out towards the sea” / “Gonna leave everything I know gonna head to the Galaxy”. All in all the song itself is pretty gloomy, powerfully sung by Ben Ottewell. Didn’t his Mamma ever tell him there would be days like these? Check out this great live version here.

‘I Will Possess Your Heart’ - Death Cab For Cutie, 2008

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008

I love a great build-up to a song. You know, it goes on…and on…and onnnn…and it keeps going…and after a few minutes the vocals come in. Some of the greatest albums employ a big build-up on the track 1 - Station to Station, Spirit of Eden, Beggar’s Banquet, Joshua Tree

‘I Will Possess Your Heart’ is the first song I’ve heard from Death Cab For Cutie, and I’m hooked and want to start searching out their other stuff. The song is over eight-and-a-half minutes long, and four-and-a-half are the build-up.

The piano gears up, a great little bassline makes an entrance, the guitar comes in with some lonesome notes, there’s some atmospheric sounds in the background, and as it starts to come together, you might feel a little shiver on the back of your neck, just about when the drums shuffle their way in. And it builds, and builds, and builds. Think Coldplay, only really good, and without the teeth-grating self-help lyrics.

Every time you think, ‘right, the singing starts here’, you’re wrong. When Ben Gibbard’s voice finally comes in (“How I wish you could see the potential, The potential of you and me”), the music lays off almost entirely, before kicking back in again.

The lyrics tell a tale of the narrator’s yearning for intimacy with another - a theme that covers, oh, say about 88% of all pop songs. But the words are written in a way that verges on the stalker-ish, which is again a pretty familiar thing with American indie bands (cf. ‘She Belongs To Me’, ‘I Am Trying to Break Your Heart’, all of Bon Iver’s stuff).

In fact, Gibbard’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste. I’ve never been a big fan of R.E.M., and Gibbard’s voice is a bit to similar to Michael Stipe’s for my liking. Truth be told, I’ve generally played the first 4 1/2 minutes, and then put it back to the start to play again.

The video for the song is terrific - a girl travelling around the world, airports, buses, taxis, escalators, foreign cities…it’s a bit like Where The Hell Is Matt, in that it makes you want to go travelling. Anyway, check it out - like I say, it’s all about the build-up.

‘Mr E’s Beautiful Blues’ - The Eels, 2000

Tuesday, June 24th, 2008

First single off the third studio album Daisies of the Galaxies by the American Band The Eels who is fronted by the eccentric Mark Oliver Everett otherwise known as E. Strnagely enough this track is not even listed as a track on the album but is a bonus track at the end of the album although not that strange if you follow The Eels. The album itself is pretty decent and more upbeat than the previous two albums from the Band with guest appearances by Peter Buck and Grant Lee Buffalo.

What I like about this song is the strong, catchy melody in the music more akin to a pop tune than an Eels tune coupled with an equally catchy chorus of “God damn right it’s a beautiful day” kinda forces you into liking this song whether you want to or not. If you exclude the verses from the song and just listen to the chorus, its a very light-hearted and upbeat song that makes you sing a long as you hadn’t a care in the world and nothing will worry you.

Now heres the kicker…If you listen to the verses they are all sung with the same catchy melody but the verses themselves speak of some dark , unhumurous events that happen in everyday life. Take for example the following lines from the song “The girl with the curls and the sweet big ribbon in her hair
She’s crawled out the window ’cause her daddy just don’t care
” which is really sad as the girl want’s to escape as she doesn’t feel loved. Another example are the lines “The clown with the frown driving down to the sidewalk fair Finger on the trigger I tell you he is quite a scare” which evoke images of a depressed clown that is about to go on a shooting spree. Nothing happy at all in any of those lines.

The above are just to examples of the dark images conveyed in the lyrics of the song. If you want to hear more then I strongly urge you to check out the video of the song here. It’s a realy interesting song when you listen to the lyrics and then the overall feel of the song - its a complete dichotomy.

‘Marquee Moon’ - Television, 1977

Monday, June 23rd, 2008

After going to see The National at the Olympia recently, I went for a few pints in Whelan’s on Wexford Street. They always play decent music in the pub, and the Guinness is pretty good too. Anyway, I was mid-way through my first pint when ‘Marquee Moon’ came on. I’ve always really liked this song, but with the blog and all, this time I tried to put together some words as to why I like it so much.

The Marquee Moon album is a really good listen the whole way through, an eclectic mix of Pink Floyd guitar-hero play and punkish attitude with opaque, cod-poetic lyrics. The lead singer, Tom Verlaine, obviously took his name from the French poet Paul Verlaine, and Television slot nicely into rock’s literary tradition, alongside The Doors, Bowie, Lou Reed & The Velvets, Patti Smith, and all the rest.

The song ‘Marquee Moon’ is the best part of eleven minutes and starts off with the rhythm guitar playing two simple chords, before Verlaine’s lead guitar comes in with a jagged line that works really well. For the verses, it’s pretty much duelling guitars, with the lead as counterpoint to the rhythm. Hard to describe, but really beautiful to listen too. The riff for the (wordless) chorus is a killer, one of my favourite guitar pieces in all of rock ‘n’ roll.

The portentous (and, of course, this being New York in the ’70’s, pretentious) lyrics refer to a time when “lightning struck itself”, “light and darkness doubled”, and “the embrace of life”. In between all of this, the lyrics have a very life-affirming quality to them, and seem to be about change and finding direction.

The last half of the song is devoted to a building crescendo of amazing guitar by Verlaine, all backed up by the rhythm guitar, bass and drums. Verlaine’s solo sounds almost like bird noises, very trebly, going up and down the note scale in a very original way. Anyway, enough of trying to describe the indescribable - have a listen to ‘Marquee Moon’.

‘Calm Down Dearest’ - Jamie T, 2007

Friday, June 20th, 2008

“Drunk already, maybe drink got spiked” is the line that perfectly sums up this song from Jamie T’s debut album, Panic Prevention. I really like this album, and wasn’t sure whether ‘Calm Down Dearest’ or ‘Alicia Quays’ would be the best one to write about. In the end, I picked this, because it’s the song that got me into Wimbledon’s finest, and also because the video’s a riot. You can hear more of his songs on his MySpace page.

‘Calm Down Dearest’ is (I think) just a song about a night out in London, and is vintage Jamie T, with some witty lines that sum up his worldview: “This is a good time to start dancin’ to this song, man”, “Drink your can, walk it drunk down the strand”, “Racking and stacking them lines”, and so on. His lyrics are affectionate nods to ATM queues, drink-fuelled weekends, waking up on the subway, going “twos on a cigarette”, and other vignettes of modern English life.

Musically, ‘Calm Down Dearest’ is actually quite poppy, in a lo-fi way. It’s got a good reggae-ish feel, with bassy keyboard chords and a nice bass line. The strings used in the song feel right, as opposed to something like ‘Dry Your Eyes’.

I like the Panic Prevention album, and it’ll be interesting to see what Jamie T comes up with next. Anyway, here’s the video for the song - for some reason I crack up whenever I watch this.

‘Babe You turn me on’ - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, 2004

Thursday, June 19th, 2008

Third track from the second cd of the 2004 double album Abbatoir Blues / The Lyre of Orpheus which is my favourite Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album after The Good Son (1990) sees Nick Cave dabbling in some greek mythology according to the article here which I know nothing about. The thing I like about Mr. Cave is that he can sing ballads really well but can also rock it out when he feels like it, check out get ready for love from Abbatoir Blues if you don’t believe me.

Let me start off writing about this song by quoting a line from it: I put one hand on your round ripe heart , And the other down your panties. Read it, then read it again…it’s a great line - I love the dichotomy of it as the first part for me is sharing a tender loving moment with a person you love and then the wild savagery that is the male species (a.k.a urges) takes hold . Don’t get me wrong everyone I think has them but sometimes us males jump the gun a bit. Anyways after hearing that line along with Cave’s deep , baritone like voice and nice melody made me stop at this song for some time before the got through the rest of the album. Check out a video for the song here.

Am I the only one that thinks Cave’s voice lends itself more to the piano than the guitar?

God I wish Nick Cave and PJ Harvey would collaborate on an entire album together - I think it would be great!

‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ - The Beatles, 1966

Wednesday, June 18th, 2008

It’s really hard to choose a Beatles song to write about, but Revolver is my favourite album of theirs. I always thought Sgt. Pepper wasn’t great, apart from ‘A Day In The Life’. The White Album had way too much filler, and Abbey Road is disqualified for having ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ in there. But I digress.

‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ is the last song on Revolver, and represented a complete change of direction for the Mop Tops. Revolver alternated some of McCartney’s best love songs with some of Lennon’s weirdest (to date - ‘I Am The Walrus was to come later) songs, with some space on the record to placate George Harrison. And ‘Yellow Submarine’ in the middle of it.

While Revolver certainly represented a shift for the Beatles, it was ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ that took it to the giddy heights. I’ve opined several times (usually when drunk) that it was ‘the first dance song’, a good ten years before Kraftwerk got into their stride.

The first thing you’ll notice is the drums. This is the first time drums were looped in a song, and they sound like they’re being played from the top of a mountain. The Chemical Brothers used a very similar beat to this for that song they did with Noel Gallagher, you know, the one that sounds like this song but nowhere near as good.

Then backward guitars, really weird bird-like sounds, sitar that phases in and out, chanting noises, and something that sounds like a keyboard with a nervous tic. Over all this, John Lennon quotes beatifically from the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Sounds much better than I’ve just described it. For those of you who want to know more, there’s a really good article on the making of ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ on Wikipedia. Didn’t you just know that LSD was the main inspiration?

The Beatles have become pigeonholed into a ’60’s/hippie/object-of-Oasis’-adoration type band for too long. It’s songs like ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ that show just how original they really were.

‘List of Demands (Reparations)’ - Saul Williams, 2004

Tuesday, June 17th, 2008

Saul Williams is an interesting kind of fella. I first heard of him when I was lazying around reading an In Dublin magazine a few years ago where a brief article compelled me to check this guy out. He played in the Crawdaddy venue on Harcourt street ( a location I have mixed feelings about ). This song was played as part of the encore set and received a great reception, making me walk way to find out more about him. Why do musicians perform encores nowadays anyway?

This song has a very angry resonance to it from the opening two lines “I want my money back, I’m down here drowning in your fat. You got me on my knees praying for everything you lack” right to the end with a combination of spoken word and a vocal delivery that gives this song a cutting edge where the artist is speaking out against social injustice that he perceives in the world. Definitely the two lines that stand out for me are “I gotta list of demands written on the palm of my hands. I ball my fist and you’re gonna know where I stand” which enforces the idea that he ain’t going to take it lying down and that he is going to stand up and fight it. I think these lines can define many situations where one would like to stand up and fight. If you haven’t yet heard this song, I strongly urge you to do so if you get a chance. Its available from his second album called Saul williams.

note: Apparently this song is the theme song for a new Nike ad in the US. As far as I’m concerned an artist can do whatever they like with their own music. It doesn’t take away anything from the song for me…see the video here.