Archive for November, 2008

‘Not a Job’- Elbow, 2003

Friday, November 28th, 2008

Elbow are receiving some long overdue credit this year due to the winning of the Mercury Prize winning album The Seldom Seen Kid released earlier this year. Their music deserves to be up there with the best indie band in the UK like Radiohead and Gomez. What’s most appealing about them is their ability to draw the listener into their world and make you listen to the album repeatedly as the couple of albums I’ve listened were real slow-burners and you only begin to appreciate the album once drawn in. The downside of course is that people may not want to be drawn in and leave the album on the shelve collecting dust but if you do persevere then more often than not it will be worth it. They deserve to be mentioned alongside Gomez and Radiohead for this alone.

The song Not a Job is the third single from the album Cast of Thousands - a stark, layered album dealing with real issues affecting almost everybody - love, drinking, etc although the lyrics often seem, to me at least, to be complex and indecipherable but this song is probably one the most accessible songs on the album (along with Buttons and Zips) in terms of reaching a general audience with it’s beautiful, soft melody. For the most part I think I do get this song as its a breakup song but he’s still hurting and coming to rash decisions which everybody that experiences this comes too. The cold light of day often brings a different perspective.

Words to make her stay: you said
Leave me and the plants die
A panic smile across your face
Corrugated browline
The hissing bitter punchline
Call when you can tie your lace

From this verse he is still bitter over the breakup and the emotions are still raw as ‘when you can tie your  lace’ seems full of contempt for the ex although he does seem to admit this, in a roundabout way from the line above ‘the hissing bitter punchline’. While I did state that their lyrics can be complex and indecipherable, it is still their strongest weapon when you do understand them in someway. An example of complex lyrics in this song are:

‘The dream again nobody understands
Walking through the long grass on your hands
It’s not a job to do today
Sleep it off’

Sometimes I think he’s just saying that nobody understands his feelings better than himself and to explain them is like ‘Walking through grass on your hands’ which could be a metaphor for why bother? but he will bother another time. To summarise what I really think about them is…they are a compelling listen at the worst of times.  Here is a link to the video they made for the song.

‘Katrina’ - Black Lips, 2007

Thursday, November 27th, 2008

I like this song, but I think I’d have liked it more if it came out in 1965 or 1976. Black Lips claim to be “flower punks”, but if this is anything to go by they’re just unashamed retroists, plundering every trick in the riffbooks of the Kinks, the Clash, the Damned or the Ramones.

An extremely simple song, both musically and lyrically, it’s still an exhilirating listen, and would make an excellent song to drink to or put on at a party. The bass and power chording guitar play the same riff the whole way through, while the singer demonises Katrina, which I initially thought was some girl.

But listening to the lyrics, you realise it’s really about Hurricane Katrina (how slow am I on the uptake?) - lines like “you saw a highway down in New Orleans” pretty much give it away.

The guitar solo comes in bursts of high-pitched fretwork and feedback, reminiscent of Raw Power-era Stooges or the Velvet Underground. It adds nicely to the punky feel of the song.

All in all, a simplistic song that’s a damn good listen. The video is here.

‘Safe From Harm’ - Massive Attack, 1991

Wednesday, November 26th, 2008

Hailing from the town of Bristol, England Massive Attack are part of the Bristol invasion into the early nineties music scene blending electronic, ambient, jazz, hip-hop , soul etc into a new sound called trip-hop. Along with fellow Bristalites Portishead and Tricky, they really revolutionised the sound of England and did as much, if not more (in my opinion a lot more), than the whole BritPop explosion did during the mid-nineties to bring international attention to England’s music once again.

Safe From Harm was the third single from their debut album Blue Lines and is probably not the most well known song, we’ll have to give that to Unfinished Symphony, from what is a truely exceptional album in terms of production, experimentation and courage, yes courage in a sense of bravery to try something new. I’ve alway’s liked Massive Attack, even up to this day so I was somewhat dissappointed when I saw them live at the electric picnic 07 but that was probably more because of the high expectation from me as opposed to the performance of the band itself.

With vocalist Shara Nelson at the helm and 3D providing the ‘hop’ element the song’s beat is heavily, if not totally, sampled from the great jazz Panamanian drummer Billy Cobham’s song Stratus, well the begining of Cobham’s song anyway. The song quickly gets into the rythm with great intent. The song always reminds me of a human’s or animal’s instinct to protect those they love when Nelson sings the line

‘if you hurt what’s mine, I’ll sure as hell retaliate’

and could be extended even further to include inanimate objects that are very important to someone. To me the line totally encapsulates human behaviour in society in general whether they are trying to protect loved ones or trying to surive. The line is almost a Darwinian statement and is repeated a number of times throughout the song. Another line that I like in the song is

‘I was lookin’ back to see if you were lookin back at me To see me lookin back at you’

The line doesn’t necessarily hold any meaning for me but instead it’s the dichotomy betweens 3D’s rapper’s voice and Nelson’s beautiful voice that intrigue’s me and really bring the song to a higher level. Here is the origional video of the song which is itself pretty cool.

‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ - The Beatles, 1967

Tuesday, November 25th, 2008

It’s hard to believe The Beatles graduated from wanting to hold your hand in 1963 to this just four years later. No matter what is written about career progression and evolution, nothing beats this metamorphosis.

As much a product of the times as the synth and mullet was to the ’80s, ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ (Wikipedia page) was nonetheless revolutionary. The Beatles were always slightly outside the whole ‘hippie’ developments of the 1960s, and yet they led the trend for all other bands to follow.

Obviously based on concepts and ideas developed by Lennon in the midst of an LSD trip, the song juxtaposes Olde Englishe whimsy with a surrealism that rivals Picasso and Dali, and was to be taken to its logical conclusion with ‘I Am The Walrus’. In Strawberry Fields (in reality a Salvation Army house in Liverpool), reality is just another side of the the illusion, yet there’s “nothing to get hung about”. The lyrics resemble the random, idiosyncratic conversation that takes place on such drugs. On a couple of occasions, Lennon tries to make a point about growing up, togetherness and society, but then backs away with a carefree “It doesn’t matter much to me”.

Musically, ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ is a revelation, quite unlike anything the Beatles had heretofore recorded. Although 1966’s Revolver album had given us songs like ‘I’m Only Sleeping’ and ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, with ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ Lennon left us in no doubt as to what he’d been taking.

The intro starts with a mellotron, and the song is composed in an unusual key with some unorthodox chords - quite difficult to play on the guitar. Certain chord progressions are avoided, leaving the listener with a sense that things really are not quite what they seem. Several elements of the song - the softly-played guitar, Ringo’s phased drums, vari-speeded multiple takes and Lennon’s breathy vocal - all contribute to a feeling of time slowing down slightly…

‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ has, of course, long since become a standard. I think I first heard it sung in a playground when I was four or five. It says a lot about the Fab Four that such a subsersive song can be accepted so readily into popular culture. But listening to this song with fresh ears is a real revelation, and if you’re one of those people who say they’re “not that gone on The Beatles”, then maybe it’s time you had a fresh listen to this (nice video too).

‘Fortunate Son’ - CCR, 1969

Monday, November 24th, 2008

Creedance Clearwater Revival a.k.a CCR were a rock and roll band in the US during the late sixties and early seventies. Lead by John Fogarty, who was the singer, songwriter and guitarist in the band while his brother Tom was also in the band. They were credited with creating the sub rock genre called swamp rock or bayou rock which I alway’s associated with the Southern States of the US which is ironic as CCR were from California. Creating music associated with a different area, culture or background can either be a blessing in disguise or a curse for musicians with the biggest issue being the credability of the band. For me, CCR unequivocally succeeded in creating the swampland/bayou sound while maintaining their integrity. Sure there will be some knockers but you can’t please everybody.

The song Fortunate Son is taken from their fourth studio album Willy and the Poor Boys and their third album of that year (how come bands of that era were so prolific eh?) the song again deals with the Vietnam War but I don’t consider this a protest song in the same vein as Dylan’s Masters of War or Edwin Starr’s War as both of these songs, and protest song’s in general, criticise war itself and the generals that run the war. This song, to me, is more about American society, but could be generalised to most western world countries, and how if you have money you can be absolved from many things including the possiblity of going to war because you were born ‘with a silver spoon in hand’  or were a ‘millionaire’s son’ . One of the sadest things in modern society is the inequality of people based on money as well as race, culture and creed.

John Fogarty is solo these days and a few months back he appeared on the Jools Holland Show and while he looked a bit weather beaten, his voice remains as strong today as it ever was. Check out a video for the song live in 1969. I’m probably opening myself up for a public flogging here but I alway’s think that CCR were the American version of that great English band The Kinks. 

‘Adagio for Strings’ - Barber, 1936

Friday, November 21st, 2008

I watched David Lynch’s The Elephant Man last night, and was surprised to hear this piece played towards the end. I’ve always associated the slow swelling of the Adagio with the death of Elias in Platoon, but it’s appeared in more films than I’d previously thought. A cursory look at the Wikipedia page (as always) tells me it has long seeped into popular culture through more channels than the movies. Truth be told, I probably heard it first on The Simpsons.

Samuel Barber, who was Irish-American and thus stakes a claim for the only appearance of an Irishman in classical music (I await correction on this), is really only remembered for this composition, though that probably does the man a disservice. Influenced by Bach and Brahms, he represented more an evolution of classical music than an original voice, and experimented with different genres such as jazz later in his career, which ran from the 1930s on.

Barber was a closeted homosexual, served in the Air Corps in WW2, and went into a depression-fuelled isolation for several years after his Opera for Antony & Cleopatra did not meet the critical acclaim he felt it deserved. I’ve never heard any of his other work, but only 27 years after his death in 1981, Barber has at least contributed one vital piece to the classical Canon.

The piece is quite repetitive around a central theme - in classical music lingo this is referred to as “arch form”. The melody quivers up the note scale, first with violins, then cellos, and finally with violas. As it moves up the register, the notes become almost drone-like, It starts quite slow-paced, but builds up noticeably as it comes to each crescendo. After the first peak is a slight fall-off down the register and a silence, which only adds to the sheer mournfulness of the composition. Little wonder that it was played at the funeral of Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The piece was most famously used as Willem Dafoe’s Elias runs from the Vietnam jungle before being cut down by enemy fire, and falls into the famous Jesus Christ pose that we see on the cover of Platoon. It’s also used in the moving final scene of The Elephant Man, where John Merrick (John Hurt’s eyes and lots of makeup) lies down and dies, having just received a standing ovation. It was also voted “Saddest Classical Work Ever” by BBC listeners.

‘Adagio for Strings’ is also well-known from remixes performed by DJ Tiesto and William Orbit, and it’s to its testament that it fits so appositely to dance music. Toscanini, one of the greatest conductors of all, performed it in its first rehearsal, and could only say: “Semplice e bella”. Simple and beautiful.

You can hear the piece on YouTube here, along with some scenes from Lynch’s movies. And if you get a chance, rent out The Elephant Man. It’s the second David Lynch movie I’ve seen in a fortnight, and it’s a disturbing but compelling show, and one of the best English movies I’ve ever seen from an American director.

‘Bye Bye Baby’ - Social Distortion, 1992

Thursday, November 20th, 2008

Social Distortion are long running west coast rock/punk band from the west coast of America.  I initially found out about them by reading music articles about other bands who would throw in the name Mike Ness while being interviewed. It came to the stage where I had seen the name so often that I inquired about who the guy was from friends until I was informed that he was the guitarist / lead singer for a band called Social Distortion

About a year ago I then got my hands an album of theirs and today’s song is taken from that fourth studio album of theirs called Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell. I haven’t yet had the chance to check out any of their other albums so I can’t qualify what type of they are but from listening to the above mentioned album I just think that they are a high tempo, old fashioned rock and roll type of band although I have seen them being described as punk (I can hear some of that on the album), hardcore punk, rockability (what does that mean?) etc, I hope to get my hands on other albums of theirs soon and find out.

I don’t think this song on the album is any better or worse than any of the other songs on the album but for some reason this song just stuck in my head more than any of the others. I think the reason for this is the lyrics in which he talks about coming to the realisation that the girl he’s seeing is no good for him. Below are the lyrics to the first verse:

‘I believe I was wrong but baby know I know.
You and your evil ways gotta go.
Take the key and break away these chains of love,
And I’ll thank the good Lord above.
The radio’s playin’ a sad song…
Bye Bye Baby yeah yeah X2′

In all honesty I just like the way Ness sings Bye Bye Baby repeatedly over some thumping guitar work. Check out a video of the song , it would be a good choice of song to get a party going…

‘In Dreams’ - Roy Orbison, 1963

Wednesday, November 19th, 2008

Now fifties music isn’t my “bag” at all, but having recently re-visited David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, I found myself cheerfully humming this unsettling Roy Orbison piece on a regular basis. Released in a time before JFK regretted a visit to Dallas, and pretty much pre-Beatles, this is one of the few American pop songs of the era that I rate.

And I’m not sure if I’d have listened as closely had I not seen the disturbing and brilliant Blue Velvet, had not watched the villainous Frank Booth (the frankly crazy Dennis Hopper) clench his teeth and contort his face while listening to this song.

Blue Velvet focuses on the dark side of a suburbia that could have been set in the ’50s or the ’80s (it came out in 1986). Cars show off their chrome, and the music is decidedly doo-wop, but there’s a cynicism there that could only have come from “the mullet decade”. It’s like an America that has gone backwards, and the cultural reference points are beehive hairdos, oversized Buicks and Roy Orbison.

For its time, the song’s structure is very innovative. It comes together in two or three pieces that are not repeated, giving the piece an orchestral feel that is made more apparent by the gushing strings. Yet there’s something very restrained about it. Orbison cannot have the woman he wants in his waking hours - but wait until the “candy-coloured clown they call the Sandman” sends him to sleep, and then he can possess her.

The use of the song in the film is a famous moment in indie film, and one that was pretty much improvised by Dean Stockwell: karaoke to the song with a torch as a microphone, giving Stockwell’s face a ghostly glow. It’s a bravura performance, and one that obviously affects Frank deeply, while Kyle MacLachlan wonders how he got invited to the house party from hell.

Here’s the video of the complete scene, culminating in the abovementioned performance of ‘Blue Velvet’. Listen closely at the start of the video - it’s a great ad for obscure American beer Pabst Blue Ribbon, and one of those silly scenes from movies that always gets me chuckling.

‘Spancil Hill’ - Shane McGowan & Christy Moore, 1994

Tuesday, November 18th, 2008

The Late Late Show is a very long running tv show in Ireland. For over 30 years Gay Byrne was the host and regardless of what people say about the program, and it does vary greatly from person to person but one thing that is undeniable is that it did do a lot to increase people’s awareness of local musicians, I know I was introduced to Mick Flannery, Jack L and Sinead O’Connor this way.

Today’s song features a marvellous duet between Christy Moore and Shane McGowan during an episode aired in 1994 when there was a special tribute to Christy Moore who is a famous Irish folk singer and is largely responsible for keeping traditional Irish folk music in the mainstream for the last 30 years. Shane McGowan probably needs no introduction.

Spancil Hill is a traditional song written in the 19th Centuary and reflects on life in Ireland in that time whereby many family members went abroad to look for work thus leaving family and friends at home. Some never came home again. In the subject of the song, he dreams of coming back home to see what the place would be like and wondering what it would be like to meet those neighbours and friends again.

The sharing of verses between Moore and McGowan is amongst the best duets I have heard either live or on an album and they complement each other so well. What probably helps a lot is the fact that these two were used to singing the old folk songs. I actually remember this recording all those years ago. You can check the video here. Doesn’t Shane McGowan looking really young? By the way the guy shouting approval at the end is Gay Byrne.

‘I Believe In You’ - Talk Talk, 1988

Monday, November 17th, 2008

I always overplay my favourite songs, but this song is different. This song will always be a five-star to me. Always.

Coming from the Spirit of Eden album, a record that I have considered my favourite for a couple of years now, this gem of a song was released as the only single from an album that would never appeal to the masses.

If you don’t know about Talk Talk, read their Wikipedia biography. If you’re still reading, you’ve likely heard the song already. If not, here’s a YouTube clip of the video. This is one of the least likely candidates for a single ever, and that’s why I love it so much.

First thing you’ll notice – doesn’t sound like an ‘80’s tune. Rippling cymbal swooshes, an echoed guitar entrance, a bit of piano. Hollis’ unmistakeable voice doesn’t enter until nearly a minute in, and he’s telling us he’s “seen heroin for myself”. Details are shady on whether this is autobiographical, and I don’t want to know. Hollis paints a beautifully solemn picture of tragic wasted youth, decay, and ultimately death, and that’s all that matters.

The song ends with redemption, Hollis intoning “Spirit – How Long?” over one of the most beautiful soundscapes I’ve ever heard – soft cymbals, brush drums, distant acoustic guitar, muted piano and a children’s choir.

I initially wrote a much longer post about this song, but had to edit it down. As with all the best music, words don’t do justice. Listen now. If you like this, I strongly recommend Spirit of Eden, Laughing Stock, and Mark Hollis’ eponymous solo album. Apparently he’s now retired – such a loss to true music lovers the world over. Here’s the link to the video on YouTube, because my words could never do this song (and the whole Spirit of Eden album) justice